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RHYMES 



OP 



CULTURE, MOVEMENT, 



AND 



BBPOSE. 



WILLIAiM Dp EMERSON. 






CINCINNATI: 

Geo. E. Stevens & Co., 39 West Fourth Street. 
1874. 






Entered according to A.ct of Congress, In the year 1874, 

BY WILLIAM 1>. EMERSON, 

In the officeof the Librarian of Congress, al Washington, D. C. 



Stereotyped by OgdEN, CAMPBELL & Co., Cincinnati. 



pREFACE. 



rpiIE following metrical essays are respectfully offered to the public; 
being a selection from a variety of articles, with the composition of 
which the author has amused some of his leisure hours, during marly 
forty years of diversified labor and study. A few of them have been 
published in newspapers and magazines; others, contained in a small 
volume printed for private circulation about twenty-three years ago. 
But by far the greater part were never before in print. Where the 
date is appended, it shows the time the article was substantially written. 
Most of the articles, however, of late, have undergone careful revision. 
Many shorter pieces are interspersed, generally at the foot of the 
pages, without titles, and therefore do not appear in the table <>!' 
contents. 

The author hopes that what has cheered him so much in writing, 
may cheer some one in reading. 



£0NTJENT£. 



R 11 VM KS OK I'lll/niR E. 



PAQB, 

Athens, Ohio '•' 

Marietta H 

Sohoolhouse Stanzas 1 1 

Teacher's Melody 19 

The Rich 14 

The School Master 1 1 

Mj Pockel Bible 10 

The ( lonsumpllvc 1 1 

a Site tor a Seminary 21 

To a Locust Tree 24 

A Peep through the Backwoods 20 

Fashionable Literature 28 

The West 80 



t LOl 

lliiiuili(\ 81 

\ Rhapsodj 88 

The Cornfield 81 

Brevities 00 

Main Street, Cincinnati '.'7 

am Night Long 08 

Equinox 100 

Charcoal 100 

Mj Office 101 

< invention 102 

Saved 105 

107 

Days for Ifears L08 



RHYM E S OK MOV E M E N T . 



To the (thin River 109 

Morning L12 

La Belle Riviere 114 

The Explosion 119 

Decay 12] 

Stanzas 122 

Freedom 124 

The Invitation 125 

Dawn in Winter vn 

u ao are the Free? 128 

TheOld Town < loch I !9 

Forebodings 182 

The Railroad 183 

Ride to Springfield I ID 

< ihange 1 15 

Nevi b 'ii ' Daj 1 1 i 

Dov n the Stream 147 

Come dome 1 19 

Found L50 

Ml i i ' 



VJLQE. 

Poetrj 152 

w eloome 158 

Palestine 154 

The Spring 155 

Beautiful Day L56 

« lamping Oul near Lake Supei loi - L67 

a waking i.')'.* 

do Ahead L60 

Firmness 162 

Voyage of Life 168 

A Prayer 164 

Props 165 

Motion and Rest 166 

Patch of Sky 167 

Coming and < ;<>i u;-, L68 

Spring Notes 169 

I i I g Up 170 

Spring 171 

May 172 

Walk toOfflce 178 






CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

The Fourth L74 

Parting L73 

Watch! Watch! 17G 

Revolution 177 

Our Washington 17'.) 

Dim Day 180 

To the Sun lsi 

The Times L82 

Morn 183 

The Alarm 184 

The Wind , 186 

Hold On 187 

The Old Elm 188 

Sabbath Dawn L89 

Drought 190 

shine and Rain 191 

Hope 192 

Beginning and Ending lit:; 

Union l'.u 

Empty Wishes 195 

Snow 196 

Ten O'Clock, P. M 198 

Day 199 

Glaciers 200 

Our Father in Heaven 202 



PAGE. 

Looh Up 203 

Opening Up 204 

Covenant Meeting '205 

Sunn; at Wedding Centennial 206 

Friends 207 

Shelling 208 

The Heart 209 

Ripening 210 

End of the Drouth 211 

Praise 211 

Contrast, L860— 1866 212 

Freedom's Fort 213 

Fast and Present 213 

Fountain of Youth '21 1 

Infinite 215 

Winter 216 

steam. Fire and Water 218 

The Spectrum 220 

Christmas 221 

Freeze and Thaw '222 

Summer in the City 223 

Morn and Eve 225 

To a Little Hoy 226 

Doing for others 227 

The stout Nurse 22S 



RHYMES OF REPOSE. 



PAGE, 

To the Sky 231 

Faith 235 

The Hills 236 

Fines Written in an Album 237 

Toil and Rest 238 

Sunshine 2:;'.) 

Stanzas 210 

The Little Kill 241 

To the Woods 242 

I'm all Alone 246 

Mind against Soul 248 

Evening 210 

Stanzas 250 

Fife 251 

Hill Scene 252 

Hymn beneath Dawalageri 25;; 

on the Death of Mrs. Price 256 

A Summer Dnv in the Woods 257 



PAGE. 

Evening Stanzas 258 

Niagara 258 

The Fallen Cottonwood 2.">9 

A Hundred Years Henee 261 

Death by the Roadside 263 

Farewell 2G 1 

Sleep 265 

The Departed 266 

The Wild flower 268 

Sabbath 269 

Evening towards Home in the < 'ily. 209 

Sabbath Morning 270 

Sabbath Eve 271 

Prayer and Praise 271 

Uprising 272 

Laborer's Song 27:'. 

Day at Home 273 

Prayer 271 



CONTESTS. 



vu 



PAGE. 

Devotion 274 

The Dying Saint 275 

Opening of Sunday School 270 

Look Up 277 

Atthe Hearthflre 277 

Night 27s 

Trust 27;i 

Reading Room 279 

Street Lights 280 

innocence 280 

August 281 

TheSabbath 282 

Hope and Duty 282 

Rest 2s;; 



PAGE. 

Sunset ; 284 

Sunrise at Window 284 

September •.... 285 

Starlight 287 

The Potato 288 

Refreshment 289 

Land and Ocean 2S9 

The Canal Boat 291 

After a Rain 302 

The Window Shade 303 

Saturday Night 305 

Rambles in Quiet Fields 306 

Our God 310 

Setting Sun 311 



t\hyme£ of Culture. 



ATHENS, OHIO. 



Sweet Athens ! the home of learning and beauty, 

How I long for thy hills and thy rich balmy air ; 
For thy wide spreading greens, smiling sweetly on duty, 

And the valley beneath, and the stream winding there! 
On the North the high rock, on the South the lone ferry ; 

The ville on the East, and the mill on the West, 
The lawn where the gravest at play hours were merry, 

And the walks by the footstep of beauty made blest : 



The old college building — where Enfield and Stewart 

Oft found me ensconced in the cupola cool ; 
While I glanced now and then, mid the study of true art, 

At the names graven there by the pocket edge-tool ; 
Oh, time has diminished the strength of my spirit; 

The visions of youth are my glories no more ; 
But still one estate from thee I inherit, 

The old right of way to the stars and their lore. 



What eloquence rang from yonder broad staging ! 

Old Cicero's spirit was certainly there; 
And there was some youthful Demosthenes raging, 

Or Chatham or Webster was sawing the air : 

'■» 



10 11 11 YMES F C UL T I r li E . 

Our essays — the teachers endured them how meekly, 
As well as our sermons on virtue and truth ; 

But they heard not, as we did, the doggerel weekly, 
The talk ot smart fellows and promising youth. 



Then the fun of the blunders at each recitation ! 

The roasting coal fire beneath the blackboard — 
The hard lessons darkening anticipation — 

The way idle scholars were scolded and scored — 
The answers from book where the coat-tail concealed it, 

The drawings of genius that stole o'er the slate, 
The awkward excuse, when a side view revealed it — 

The broad hint Professor gave lazy eyed Late. 



And then our Societies, oh how we boasted 

Of what we would do, and of what we had done ! 
How oft in debate were our opponents worsted ! 

What golden opinions our literature won ! 
What a fuss we were in at th' examination — 

Pitty-pat went our hearts, and our faces turned red ! 
What a shout on the stairs, just before the vacation ! 

What a funny life through interregnum we led ! 



Sweet Athens ! o'er thee love and light hold dominion; 

They poured their rich harmony full on thy breeze ! 
Oh, would but some gentle dove lend me his pinion, 

How soon would I perch mid thy soft locust trees ! 
But where is his reverend form, who presided, 

Alive with strong intellect, feeling and power; 
Whom we loved and revered, and in whom all confided, 

The Washington guiding through danger's dark hour ? 



S CII L- 110 US E S TA NZA S. 1 1 

Bright Athens, farewell ! if thy green slopes should never 

Loom up in the distance to welcome me more, 
Thy scenes are engraved on my heart, and forever 

Shall memory faithfully keep them in store ; 
I think of thy rills, and my blood, richly flowing, 

Leaps freshly as erst through every vein ; 
And thy landscape, with distance and time brighter growing, 

Seems all made anew in the heavenly plain. 



MARIETTA. 

Here, where two meeting rivers fringe the plain, 
O'er which the semi-circling green hills tower, 
The "Pioneer City'' stands : its streets a chain 
In graceful folds, of cottage, tree and flower. 
Here Learning loves to build her shady bower, 
And, like a magnet, draws the mind from far ; 
Giving that mind its own magnetic power ; 
Freighting the mental and the moral car, 
And sprinkling all the West with many a radiant star. 

1836. 



SCHOOL-HOUSE STANZAS. 

The rose of the morn 

Entrances the sight, 
And the Spring in her dawn 

Seems an angel of light. 
So the cheek has its roses 

Of beauty and youth ; 
And each one discloses 

A heavenly truth : 



12 RI1 Y M i:s OF CUL TUBE. 

Oh, brighter than morn with its rosy light 

Are the visions that glitter in childhood's sight ; 

And lovelier far than the dawn of the Spring, 

Is the flight of the soul when it first takes the wing. 

The bird who, so fair, 

Dipped his plume in the sun, 
Ouitteth beauty for care ; 

To his nest he is gone. 
Go thou to the skies, 

Wrap thyself in their glory ; 
Then brighten young eyes 

With the robe they fling o'er thee : 

And richer by far than the beams of the sun 
Is the light which the embryo spirit has won 

And higher than ever the lark hath flown 

Is the flight of the soul, when its wings are grown. 

That stream was a rill — 

A raindrop of the mountain — 
And would have been still, 

Had it ne'er left its fountain: 
That oak was an acorn, 

Alone in the wood ; 
There the eagle has taken 

Her nest and her brood : 

That soul is a drop and that mind is a grain ; 
The eagle shall follow its soarings in vain ; 
'Twill be strong as the oak and wide as the river ; 
Flow onward, and widen and deepen forever. 

1I.UNHI-. 1838 



TEA CHER'S MELO D Y. 13 



TEACHER'S MELODY. 



I like my little scholars, 
I like them every one ; 

The little lass with the lily face, 
And the poor man's ragged son. 

As they sit upon their benches, 
They seem like rows of flowers ; 

And as I watch their busy eyes, 
How sweetly pass the hours. 

There's something in the faces 
Of freshly blooming youth, 

That is the very portraiture 
Of innocence and truth. 

And as I watch the sparkling 
Of a. mildly beaming eye, 

I seem to be a gazer-on 
The pure millennial sky. 

And if there is a paradise 
Upon this guilty earth, 
? Tis in a school where Virtue leads 
The song of genial mirth. 

Oh, what is there which minds one 

Of Eternity's long day, 
Like the bursting of the mental bud 
That ne'er shall know decay. 
Illinois. 1838. 



l i nil YMES OF CUL TURE. 

THE RICH. 

'Tis he thro' whose deep-channelled soul 
The steady stream of lime shall roll, 
And leave its gold and gems behind 
To fill the coffers of the mind ; 
Who has a home in every clime, 
A heavenly friend in every time ; 
Who calls the blooming earth his mother, 
And everv son of Earth his brother ; 
Heaven keeps for him a golden niche — 
He has the world, an.l he is rich. 



THE SCHOOL MASTER. 

Oh, who is so merry as the merry school master ? 
True mirth is his fortune, and none spend it faster ; 
Tho' his cheeks may be hollow, his locks may be gray, 
He lives to his last 'mid the dawn of the daw 



Tho' the flowers of the field bathe our eves in the light, 
'bis the bloom of young faces enraptures the sight ; 
The one may breathe fragrance, the other breathes soul, 
llow it gleams thro' the eves that bewitchiniilv roll ! 



Oh, give me the rose — the sweet rose that can blush, 
And the blossom that weaves a bright thought in its flush; 
Oh, give me the eye like the sun on the lake, 
And the ripples of life o'er the features that break. 



'/'///: SCH I. MASTER. 15 

Full many a day o'er the rusty old stove, 
Have those features been lighted with life and with love; 
While the whistling of Winter came thro' the thick walls, 
And the music of storm from his cloud covered hulls. 



Tho' the earth should seem melted to mud and to water, 
As sure as the sun, comes the dear little daughter ; 
And when the whole sky is falling in snow, 
With a wool-covered back pops in little Joe. 



For their lessons to learn is more fun than slciohino-, 
And to read about kitty is better than playing ; 
And the praise they receive for perfection in spelling, 
Soon puts them above all conceit of rebelling. 



At recess they frolic like birds on the wing ; 
How thrilling their shout as they chase around the ring ; 
When they catch out each other while playing old cat, 
And the ball is sent back by the broad-pointed bat. 



Then the loud and long call, or the bell or the rap, 
Each bows at the door as he pulls oft' his cap ; 
Then hush their loud mirth, and with faces too red, 
They sit o'er their lessons as still as in bed. 



Yet never a nod, or if there should be, 

The sleepy-head's waked by the laughing, you see; 

While his big eyes roll round 'neath the weight of their 

lids, 
He grins at the sport he reluctantly heeds. 



it; l: II ) .1/ ES OF CUL TUR E. 

Then out comes a class, and in turn or together, 
They read of the world, or the wolf, or the weather; 
Some clear as a flute, and some soft as a rill, 
And some with the tones of a clarion shrill. 

And as for the rest — the cyphering, writing, 
The spelling, the scolding, the occasional smiting; 
'Tis the pepper ami salt to a school master's dish, 
To be a school master then pray don't you wish ? 

In a school you will live in perpetual youth ; 
Your companions, sweet innocence, beauty and truth ; 
On your deeds will your own world around you be fed, 
And vou live in a thousand hearts when you are dead. 
lii iNius, 1888. 



MY POCKET-BIBLE. 

\1\ little Pocket-Bible, I would not part with thee, 

If thou couldst purchase all the gems at the bottom of the 

sea ; 
For that one word — that single word — on which I dropped 

a tear, 
As I gave m\ heart to Heaven, I'll hold thee ever dear. 

When wearied out witli vanity, my spirit sighs for home, 
I (.men thee, and hear a voice, " Come, hea\ v laden, 

come ; " 
The load tails off my shoulders, 1 feel the strength of 

wings, 
And wuii its lowh place content, my raptured spirit sings. 



/'// 1: CONS I'M /'/*/ VE. 17 

All glory seems ascending to God from whom ii came, 
Ami gratitude seems burning in everj starry flame j 
All loveliness and beauty, tin- truthful ami the grand 
Shine on thy pages, like the streams and hills ol Canaan's 
land. 



Thou art the t6ngue*of Heaven (hat speaks In mortal ear 

In tones of love ami pit',', yet faithful ami severe ; 

That wains us from the steep which hangs o'er wickedness 

ami woe, 
And bids us follow yonder star of brilliant eastern glow. 



Tlu- star that shines so height on earth, how much more 

bright in heaven ; 
The Sabbath of the week of time that sanctifies the 

seven ; 
Where eyes too strong tor mortal gaze, like eagles scan h 

the sun, 
Ami wings of eeslaey ascend toward the Eternal throne! 
l i.i .1 • . ■ ■ i i 



THE CONSUMPTIVE. 

A brother and three r-isteis came to school ; 

They were the children of adversity; 
Their manners easy, quiet, kind, yet cool ; 

Their t hasten ''l spirits never rose to glee ; 
A something like entreaty rilled theii eyes j 
I h :ir virtu ■ med above their years to rise. 



Tl II )W ES OF CUL TUB E. 

A tender mother was their only stall'; 

The father was an invalid for years ; 
With resignation's smile they learned to quaff 

Contentment's cup, half sweetened by their tears. 
To nurse a growing cough, the boy at home 
Remained, and soon his sisters teased to come. 

Again they came with paler cheeks, but staid 

Scarce lull a week; for now the mother saw 
llis illness was a lingering death delayed; 

A ml tho' the book ceased not his heart to draw, 
lie still loved play, and as he chased the ball, 
Would often stop, with sudden cry, or fall. 

So kept at home, he lead while mother spun ; 

And oli slu- stopped the loom to mark his tens ; 
While little Maltha's eye was often won 

By an unearthly look of his, and teats 
Of something she knew not would touch her heart, 
And she from waking dreams would shuddering start. 

A little garden long had won his care — ■ 
A nursery round it, and a vigorous tree, 

Just twice his height, hut not of age to bear, 
Was in its midst; he loved to sit and see 

The \cllo\vmg leaves now dropping one by one, 

As if he sympathized with bloom so nearly gone. 

One day his eye grew brighter, and he seemed 

• The portrait of returning health. The sister.; thought 
That never had his face so sweetly beamed. 

And by unwonted animation sought 
To keep his spirits up } they gathered round, 
And talked ot" all that one.- had made his heart to bound. 



'/'// /: COJS S UMPT1 V E. L9 

He smiled upon their fondness; mother smiled; 

Even the lather's ghastly features lit; 
But while John's eye grew bright, 'twas growing wihl ; 

"Sister, my litlle garden, tend it yet — 

" W'luii the first apple from my young tree lalls, 
"Then listen, and believe 'tis John that calls. 

" Mother, this Bible I give back to yon ; 

Let Martha read lor me— to father; when" — 

Here In- stopped short and sunk —it was to., true 
His features marble — ne'er to change again ; 

Astonishment first kept their eyelids dry — 
Then hurst the mother's, then the sisters' cry 

Two days had passed, when slowly came a train 
Of bending forms, and pensive downcast eyes, 

To that green spot upon the wooded plain, 

Behind the nook whereon the school-house lies ; 

The children stood aroun 1 the grave, and wept 
O'er him who in that long red coffin slept. 

No more in social play or Study, he 

Whose check is ghastly, cold and pale, shall join; 
The coffin lowers in the grave, while she, 

Who held him dearest, utters one deep groan ; 
A brother's feedings in each young heart swell, 
And every eye expresses a farewell. 

Then fell the clods upon the coffin lid, 

And every stroke thrilled thro' a mother's heart. 

A mound is soon erected o'er tin- dead ; 
A roof of poles laid on with rustic art, 

To guard the sleeping place from vulgar feet, 

While- head and loot-hoards make the bed complete. 



II II YM ES F C UL TV R E. 

No funeral service o'er the grave was spoken, 
No pompous mourning dresses flaunted there ; 

But every saddened feature was a token 

Of the deep mourning feeling hearts can wear ; 

And when, the burial o'er, the crowd had gone, 

The scholars sung a little dirge to John. 



Farewell, brother, we have laid thee 

Underneath the lofty oak, 
That last summer used to shade thee 

From the Sun's meridian stroke : 
Did we think while 'neath its cover, 
Here we read our lessons over, 
Round thy grave we soon should hover ? 



Could we think, when lovely morning 

P'ound thee at the school-house door, 
With its rose thy cheek adorning, 

Soon that rose would bloom no more ? 
When to Teacher we recited, 
Would his smile so bland have lighted, 
Knew he thou wouldst soon be blighted ? 



When at noon we used to call thee 

To the base, or hole or den, 
Had he told what would befal thee, 

Would we have believed him then ? 
Sure to strike, and quick to parry, 
Brisk at play, though seldom merry — 
Rest thee, brother, thou art weary. 



.1 SITE FOR A SEMINARY. '21 

Could we go but half way with thee, 

To the place beyond the tomb, 
We with farewell flowers might wreathe thee, 

Catch a glimpse of thy new home. 

Fare thee well — a spirit blooming, 

Hither should'st thou e'er be roaming, 

Brother, tell us of thy corning 
Ir.i.i.vois, 1838. 



A SITE FOR A SEMINARY. 

From all the settlement the paths converge, 
To one rich grove upon a central spot, 

Through which the teamsters ne'er the oxen urge, 
In which the feathered songster ne'er is shot ; 

No girdled trees decay, no lofty oak 

Rebellows to the woodman's sturdy stroke. 

But there sweet quiet breathes among the trees, 
That whisper to the zephyrs as they fly ; 

And he, whose broken spirit inly grieves, 

There nurses pensive dreams his tears that drv ; 

There meditation finds a cheerful home, 

Devotion »azes on the azure dome. 



The plain swells gently to the centre, where 
A modest building rears a lofty spire; 

Its form is full, and its complexion fair ; 
Its front door faces Phoebus' earliest fire ; 

The short side ranges with the northern star, 

And Phoebus mounted on his noonday car. 



n ii ymes o F a ul r u n /•:. 

Around the roof extends a walk, with seats; 

And from its elevation one may see 
A boundless prairie country, with its streets, 

Its charming groves, each like one spreading tree ; 
Its painted mansions, and its sea of flowers, 
The sport of breezes thro 1 the summer hours. 

While on the north a snow-capped mountain gleams, 
A rich cloud hanging from the heavens to earth ; 

Hill after hill declining from it, seems 

The staircase to the halls of heavenly mirth ; 

With beauteous swells abounding, and with groves, 

O'er which the eye enkindles as it roves. 

And on the east is seen a lovely lake, 

That every morn is plated o'er with gold ; 

Whose stillness no intruding tempests break ; 
A mirror for the sky, in which are told 

The stories of the stars and sun and moon, 

Varying their loveliness from night to noon. 

While on the south, a broad, meandering river 
Sweeps off an hundred steamers to the sea ; 

Winding in graceful majesty forever, 
Like Time in chase of vast Eternity ; 

And their hoarse thunder, softened thro' the wood, 

Is like a low wind speaking to the solitude. 

Afar is seen a city, whose rich hum 

Floats on the wings of the south-western gale ; 
And Nature in her noonday slumbers dumb, 

Sim es as if hearing some sweet spirit's tale ; 
The stream winds round the plains so neatly urest, 
As if it clasped the city to its breast. 



A SITE FOR .1 SEMINARY. 23 

But when the eye is tired of far oft views, 

It rests with calm content on scenes at home ; 

The armies of young corn, all bright with clews ; 
The giant oaks, where rich voiced singers come 

On morning colored wings to chant their joys, 

Whose merry sports no fowler e'er annoys. 

Around extends a yard of lovely green, 
Fenced in by double rows of locust trees ; 

Where, as the Sun's fast shortening shade is seen, 
The children play ; their minds and hearts at case ; 

Their faces flushed with warm and cheerful blood ; 

Their joyous laugh long ringing thro' the wood. 

Behold that slender form instinct with mirth, 
Now bent to aim, and now to shun a stroke ; 

Then straightened up to pride, as if his worth 
Were doubted, or his word— he never broke ; 

Suddenly fired against his dearest' friend, 

But softened by a look to former bend. 

Then mark that sweet blue eye, those saffron locks — 
A speck of heaven amid the golden clouds ; 

How gay in yonder vine hung chair she rocks ! 

While round her hear the rich tones growing loud; 

The songs, that speak the spirit's reckless glee, 

Are measured by the pend'lum swinging from the tree. 

But who is that fast striding up the path, 

Marking the new born flowers, the new tuned birds ? 
Whose face and eye are apt for smile or wrath ; 

Sweetness and strength are mingled in his words ; 
He waives his hand, and bows, and hids good morn, 
While all to him and to the school-house turn. 



24 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 

And there he rules a little realm of thought, 
The faithful gardener of life's opening flowers ; 

He gains a glory, glory knoweth not, 

Touching the spring that moves all human powers ; 

A world of love is gathered in that room ; 

Is he not happy in his heart built home ? 

1S39. 



TO A LOCUST TREE. 

I love thee, locust tree, 

Where'er or when I see, 
Not for thy form in which I trace 
The gently curving lines of grace ; 

But for those forms of glee 

Thou bring'st to memory, 
My earliest playmates 'neath the merry locust tree. 

I love thee, locust tree, 

Not for the breezes free, 
That play with thy velvet-fingered leaves ; 
Nor the fragrance thy rich blossom gives 

To the ever busy air, 

But for those faces fair — 
Bathed in the locust's cooling shade — again I see them 
there. 

I love thee, locust tree, 

For the song that rung from thee, 
Like an angel choir, when the morning beam 
Awakened me from a glorious dream. 

The song it came unsought 

Thro' the window of my cot, 
And roused a thrill of gratitude for my happy, humble lot. 



TO A LOCUST TREE. 25 

I love thee, locust tree, 

For my mother seems to be 
Now at my side, as wont of yore, 
When she taught me nature's noblest lore ; 

I see her now as oft, 

With hand and voice so soft, 
She pointed through the boughs of green and bade me look 
aloft ! 

I love thee, locust tree -, 
My father, where is he ? 
When the thunder roared, and the lightning came, 
And wound the locust with wire of flame, 
How sudden was my cry ! 
He searched my frightened eye, 
" Son, fear the voice of Him who thunders from on high." 

I love thee, locust tree — 
'Twas a mournful day to me, 
When 'neath the shade in front of our cot, 
My sister's coffin was slowly brought ; 
And a dying leaf did fall 
From the locust on the pall, 
And I wept as we bore her clay — not her — to the narrow 
funeral hall. 

I love thee, locust tree, 

Thou seem'st a family, 
That I may never see again, 
Till the car of Death bear us o'er the plain ; 

But if a landscape sweet 

Our meeting eyes shall greet, 

In another, happier world, 'neath a locust may we meet ! 

Illinois, 1838. 
(3) 



120 /;// YMES (> I' CULTUR E. 



A PEEP THROUGH THE HACK 'WOODS. 

Out West, a certain edifice is built 
In one day and a hall, In - twenty hkmi, 

Of black oak logs \ and half the cracks arc filled 
With fence rails, mud anil mortar; now ami then 

A hole is left to let in light of" day — 

Xhe other half are filled in the same way. 



A something called a chimney, at one end, 

Is reared ot" rock, clay, shingles, laths and logs ; 
And these in strata regularly ascend ; 

Two chunks ot rotten wood may serve tor dogs ; 
A door will whine on wooden hinges, and 
Yon bench is built so high, to sit — will be to stand. 



A roof is weighed with several cords ot" wood ; 

The shingles fastened down without a nail, 
Thro' which the storms occasionally intrude, 

And save the lugging water in a pail, 
To wash the floor, which is by no means tight, - 
The windows have no glass to dim the light. 



To make these airy openings water proof, 
Loii!', boards on hinges ot" sole leather play ; 

The lizards walk the ratters, nor aloof" 
Big spiders Stand, almost as big as they ; 

The mice, too, have a race path on the chinking. 

At which the little scholars oft are winking. 



A P /<: B /' V // /,' C7 G U 'I' II E r, A 1< W <> DS. 27 

The furniture — a kitchen chair — split-bottom — 

Which answers Pedagogus for a throne ; 
The benches — wonder where the people got 'em; 

Unba< ked, they seem saw-horses overgrown; 

A bucket, tincup, and si\- nails lor hats J 
A swallow's nest — now occupied by rats. 



A county road meander, half way round 
The Seminary yard ; the noise oi cattle, 

The oaths of drivers, and the rumbling sound 
Of passi ii" ( ha i iotS, and the OX < ait \ rati le, 

Serve to relieve the tedious eight hours' study — 

But oftener to interrupt a body. 



The inmates of this model backwoods college 

Are twenty barefoot youngsters of all sizes ; 
Who give their time by halves to corn and knowledge, 

And leave their trundle beds ere Phoebus rises , 
You see them dropping in from seven till nine, 
And some who come from far remain to dine. 



Their raiment is not, more than they, of silk ; 

Yet think not that theil li'nt , are cold as pone, 
Nor yet their faces sour as buttermilk, 

Although their dinner pails nought else may owti ; 

They keep, by rubbing them from morn till night, 
Their hoes, their hearts, their head,, their honor bright. 

Ii.i.i i i 



28 



i; 11 ) u /"> OF CULTUR E. 



FASHIONABLE LITERATURE. 

The miserable 's the modern true sublime) 
An*! rei klesfl \ ice the shortest way to rcat ii 11 . 

Plunge into ruin, you can plunge in rhyme j 
Learn by experience, and you can teach ii , 

Poel "i passion, j >'u will populai be, 

Since men are wretched, ahd want compant 



Some writers with the powers ol good and evil 
Claim like acquaintance . they are cicerones, 

Read} to introdu< e to ( '>'>1 01 de\ 11 . 

l'iu-\ make but slight distinction 'tween the thrones ■> 

rheii hobby is effect, and so you are 

riuu followers, will lead you don't care where. 



While others gathet flowers from even land, 
Aiul foi (in - richest jewels search the set . 

Foi golden dust sin History's moving sand, 
l\> deck theii goddess, sensuality . 

On worthless objects ruin mental worth, 

\n«l ii ih>\ could, would turn heaven into earth, 



[*o Virtue pa] n compliment to day 
Aiul then to Vice .i neatei one to morrow . 

ro -ill the meanei passions make .> bow, 
\iul whine tli* - i*' s f ol life in reckless sorrow ; 

Oi build, like Bgypt,a most splendid pile, 

Foi what \ \ temple (>' -i crocodile, 



/ I 811 1 <> v i /: /, /■: /, / /■//,• i TUM IS, W 

A" mi oui critici nn i i lomei imes I hii 

I ilcni wa ■ "iily given to be di iplayed ; 
'I i . noi the ' i imi to aim wrong, bul to mi i 

No mattei what you 'I" to help voui trade > 
The end is chaff, when ripem I well the meam — 
'I he end i i bul the pod to hold I hi bi an ■■ 

Ri( h men make great expenditures, and ihave 
'I hi pooi , not foi theii own, 01 others' good , 

Bul |U8t i" how the woiM how much they have, 
(Sim '■ < ash 01 no i ash makes i efined 01 i ude \) 
■ niu le • may cui .ill Natut e's i ules 

'I o ihow thai they can handle fine edged tool.. 

Some clevei soul a knowledgi ol the world 
Will give you , il you onl / bu / hi i book ; 

Bul ei e long in hi i fan< / < hai iol wlm led 
I- loin .' ene to s< ene, foi som< thing • I le you look ; 

l'r-i> li.ni' - you find '"" late hi i trade to be 

To lead you into bad soi i< I y. 

Yon novelist show i how pretty ;• thing i i pit e, 

A nd 1 hai a rascal is a i ighl fine fallow ; 
'I li it I; nowledge should be had al any pi i< ■■ , 

'I h.it one may be devotional and mellow} 
I n to h< a ' I* he lomi time i offereth, 
Bui e ."ii i hi n you smell a di unkai d's breal h< 

We wish well to oui country, bul such lore 

I "i hope is fai from palatable food , 
A n'l pet a tin hi n no moi e 

'I he dai k ne i shall be light, oi evil good ; 
WIimi 'I ruth and Right become sublimity, 

I hen, and noi till then, man is truly free 4 

i •» 



30 JUIYMES OF CULT UR E . 



THE WEST. 

The West ! the West ! the sunset clime, 
The last, the loveliest path of Time ; 
Where glory spreads his loftiest flight, 
Ere Fate shall bid the world good night, 
And Spirit rises high and higher, 
Above the old earth's funeral pyre ! 



The West ! the West ! the favored East 
Has spread for thee her treasured feast ; 
Her commerce brings that science here, 
Which cost a dozen centuries dear ; 
And Liberty, that fled her shore, 
Rises on thee to set no more ! 



The West ! the West ! where is the West ? 

'T was here — 't is on the prairie's breast; 

It follows the declining Sun 

Along the banks ot Oregon ; 

It will be where he lavs his pillow 

Upon the wide Pacific's billow. 



The West ! the West ! and o'er the sea, 
East as the Sun the shadows flee ; 
Religion, Learning, Freedom high, 
Their mantles drop while passing by ; 
On China's towers their flag is gleaming, 
And wakes whole empires from their dreaming. 



HUMILITY. 31 

The West ! the West ! still onward West ; 

And now the Earth indeed is blest ; 

Lo ! here the spot where Eden stood, 

And there where Jesus shed his blood ! 

The morning star above suspended ! 

The East and West together blended ! 
Cincinnati, 1817. 



The sky is an infinite True ; 

To the green world that darkens before it, 
Bringing down the old and the new 

From the Misrhty whose wings are o'er it. 



HUMILITY. 

Who is the humble? Is it he 

That yields to man, but dares his God ! 
A slave to slaves consents to be, 

But slights his mighty Master's rod ? 
Or he who knows himself a man, 
And begs to give, of Him who can ? 



Who is the humble ? Is it he 

That stoops from Duty's path to creep, 
Or clips the wing, or bends the knee, 

That he may have a chance to sleep ? 
Or he whose thoughts, once set on fire 
By love, to glorious deeds aspire ? 



32 RHYMES QF CULTURE. 

Who is the humble ? Is it lie 

That droops beneath a weight of pride 

Well pleased that men in him should see 
Such lowliness and meek outside ? 

Or is it he whose sunlit soul, 

Lightened of self, can reach its goal ? 



Who is the humble ? Is it he 
That makes humility a blind ? 

Who fawns to all the powers that be, 
That he the way to power may find ? 

Or is it he whose active zeal 

Prefers to his, another's weal ? 



Humility— it is the sky — 

The simple azure of the soul ; 

The giving up of little I, 

To share Creation's boundless whole ; 

The quiet eye, so clear, so bright, 

That yields itself to truth and light. 

1S4S. 



A IlII A l'VtjD Y. 33 



A RHAPSODY. 

Oh, could we hear each voice that soars above, 

In prayer or praise, from church, or cot, or wood 
And mark each saintly look, engraved by Love 
On count'nances with tears of joy bedewed ; 
Could we, this moment, in a million eyes, 
Behold a million images of Jesus rise ; 



And call each voice, each cheek, each eye, each heart, 

A father's, mother's, sister's, or a brother's ; 
What ecstacies of gratitude would start 

From these o'er burdened bosoms ! Every other's 
Best gifts would be the heirlooms of each soul ; 
(Tho' not possessed entire, till clay has turned to coal.) 



Then wrought into each other's being, we 

Would die to self, and live to wage the strife, 

Who should by serving most, become most free. 

Did we but die indeed, oh, what were life ! 

Did we but live indeed, oh, what were death ! 

Who would not, then, exchange for Heaven a single 

breath ? 
Springfield, Ohio, 1850. 



34 R // YMES OF CULTURE. 

. THE CORN FIELD; 

I. 
Long ere bold Europe's daring gained thy shore, 

Land of the free, the red man reaped his field, 
Though rudely tilled, of Indian com, whose store 

Supplied the food the forest could not yield ; 

And yet it was not he that deigned to wield 
The clumsy hoe, best fitted for the drudge, his wife ; 

His heart to toil's serener pleasures steeled, 
He nerved his arm in war's unceasing strife, 
Or in the burning chase he wore away his life. 

u 

But he is gone, and she who toiled for him, 

Far to the wild unconquered by the plow ; 
The fierce light of his watch lire waxes dim ; 

Sadness has shor-n the terrors of his brow : 

Behold him, desolate and nerveless, bow 
To fate, and drown his sorrows in the bowl ; 

But some there are in whom the Indian now 
Lives on, and some that strive for that same goal 
Which they pursue that fain improvement's car would roll. 

in 

Whence came the Indian with the golden maize? 

Or came he with it? History is mute. 
But not to him who spends his priceless days 

Destroying, where he eats not — life's best fruit j 

And lends no hand to help the rising shoot 
Up to communion with the Sun and air, 

Doth mild eyed Nature give in charge to root 
In a new soil the stem so tall and fair, 
Whose arms are full of grain whole nations seek to share. 



•I'll E CO i: 2V /<'/ EL h. 



Perchance some wanderer from a Southern clime, 

Laden with produce from a taller stem, 
His pathway took amid the plains sublime, 

In which the florist finds his brightest gem, 

Hoping to gain some lesser diadem ; 
And thus along his path a winding row 

Unconscious dropped, till where the forests hem 
No more the prairie ocean ; thence to flow 
A mighty sea of blades wide rolling, sure and slow. 



When first our broad Alluvials saw the Sun, 

The bounteous soil supplied an ample store •, 
Altho' the plow did slender furrows run, 

In which the corn was dropped and covered o'er ; 

The rich mould scarce required disturbance more ; 
Earth gave and asked not •, what she gave was all 

The many cared for ; not to look before 
Had been their wont ; but soon a long, loud call 
From beggared hungry land was heard in farmer's hal 



Then not too soon he started and awoke 

From dreaming that his land would last forever ; 

The heart of Earth, he now saw, must be broke ; 
Nor could she always be the bounteous giver, 
Receiving not ; that Nature's great receiver, 

The soil was made, while six- retained the sway ; 
That pouring Rain and Rill and rolling River 

Her laborers were ; her treasures night and day, 

Scattered with ccjual hand, for flower and fruit made way. 



36 i: U V M ES OF OUL TURE. 



Oh, spiritual Air, whose constant breath 
We draw ; the plants innumerable in thee 

Breathe too, until their fruit is ripe in death ; 
For the chief elements of stem and tree 
Thou art a store house vast and ever free; 

The snow, the rain, the dew, are thine, oh Air ; 

Thine all Earth's children give thee •, happy he 
\\ hose soil with ever open heart cm share 

Those gifts which thou to give all round the Earth dost 
bear. 



Oh, holy Rest! restorer to the soil 

Of what her vegetable children take away ; 
Angel ot mercy to continuous toil! 

Thou givest Nature's energies full pin- ; 

'The fruits and flowers change places 'neath thy sw.iv ; 
Earth takes from Air and fattens ; seasons roll 

'Their cargoes in her store-house; night and day 
Fill up her purse again, until made whole 
[n rich and bounteous growth we see her generous soul. 



'Then Hies the turrow from the glittering share; 

Deep sinks the double plow ; Earth's coat ol glass 
'Thick woven in the soil, bursts out to bare 

Her bosom as the panting oxen pass; 

We see 1 .nth breathing, as the torn up mass 
Smokes freely, till the harrow's iron jaw 

Grinds all to powder; then of floating ^as 
'The soil diinks deeply ; while the zephyrs draw 
Its timely gifts ; with joy fulfilling Nature's law. 



THE COR \ FIELD. 87 

X. 

Decay and Waste! ye, too, have bounteous stores, 

Which man may give to the impoverished land ; 
Sometimes transported from far distant shores, 

But oftener sought and found on every hand ; 

Ye arc- dissectors of th' innumerable hand 
Ol forms that life deserts; when Autumn shakes 

Earth's carpet and lays by, the great command, 
Receive and give, man heeds ; of yours he takes 
And scatters to the soil, which the young Spring awakes. 

XI. 

To equalize is thine, oh, Culture ; thine the task 

To bring the buried talent up to light; 
The parched and worn out soil, no more to hask 

In the Sun's rays, thou turncst under; Night 

Throws up full many a moist, fresh clod to bright 
Companionship with Day, and Air and Dew; 

Dissolving 'neath thy hand, they thus invite 
Rich laden airs to visit them, whose true 
Bounties descend ; meanwhile the soil turns up anew. 

4 
Ml. 

Month after month, the Winter holds his plow, 
Deep in the land ; at first compressing all, 

Ami then dilating; thus the- gloomy now 
Preparing tor the bright lure-after ; (all 
Mis sheets ol dost all over this great hall; 

With blanket snow he warms the slumbering grain; 
1 1c- gathers sweet from e.nh decaying gall ; 

Fills up the reservoirs of healthful rain ; 

And thus prepares the realm for spring to rule again. 



;;s /;// y m i;s OF CUL TUBE. 



The latest snows have melted quite away ; 

The grass is peeping from its ample bed ; 
The moments hasten round the lingering day ; 

While furthei North the twilight shows its red ; 

With many .1 stranger wind the air is fed ; 
The ground sends ug its fresh and wholesome breath ; 

rhe robin in the tree top bobs lus head, 
Aiul sings triumphantly the winter's death, 
As Spring's first opening flower its sweetness gathereth. 



The polished plow is bright ; the harness shines, 

Ami vigor sparkles in the horses' eyes ; 
The driver holds them firmly by the lines ; 

The magic words u Gee, Haw, '"the plowman tries ; 

The lorn; wedge enters and the tin row tlies ; 
And as th' inverted ground sends up its steam, 

Beating the air, the long, long whip he plies ; 
And still with cheer, he urges on the team ; 
Meanwhile their plump round sides with perspiration 

gleam. 

XV. 

Onward it speeds, the swift, yet weighty plow, 

The plowman singing to the obedient span ; 
In yonder corner see them land, and now 

Quickly he wheels the share as plowman can, 

Turning right angled, like the hold, broad man ; 

Then smooth and straight, lie cuts the long, long line ; 

Nearing the center evei •» time ; we scan 

At last a shape not easy to define. 

And which the waving [Mow shall quickly undermine. 



Till' CORN FIELD. 89 

XVI. 

AihI now the hanow comes upon the scene, 

Geometry's best figure, set with teeth; 
The big adhesive clods are crushed between 

The iron spikes acuminate beneath ; 

And so the mellowed soil has room to breathe 

rhe air of heaven, and drink the healthful rain, 

Rain thai is sleeping in 5 on cloudy wreath ; 
But mark the courses lapping, as the train 
Is smoothing down the face oi yonder torn up plain ! 



And now the roller, iron east or wood, — 
One line that ever changes, moving <>n, — 

Crushes the soil, the vegetable's food, 

Anil leaves the plant a bed to grow upon, 

Smooth as a garden thai reflects the Sun; 
And thus the ground more mellow still becomes ; 

A crust is formed that keeps whate'er is won 
From God's distributors, that have their homes, 

l\\ yonder sky where all that feeds existence roams. 



Meanwhile- with eyes hem down where vermin lurk, 
Ami hills hall' opened, pointing to the sod, 

The early risen fowls have been at work 
Seizing the worm uprooted with the clod ; 

Mi, little home where strangers never trod 

Ere the late revolution ; easy prey 

To hungry bird lie falls; the lazy toad 
Unhoused and sometimes mangled, hops away 
To lind a dwelling safe heyond the light of day. 



40 R // TMES OF CUL TUBE. 

XIX. 

The smaller plow has left its resting place, 
Beneath the roof and boldly takes the field ; 

There many a shallow furrow does it trace, 

Straight, parallel and smooth, with room to wield 
Four feet or less the lively hoe, and yield 

The future horse and plow an ample street ; 
Then crosswise is the tier of furrows wheeled, 

Cutting the ground in squares, and where they meet. 

The shining kernels haste their mother Earth to greet. 



Thro' every realm of Nature's wide domain, 

One truth stands holdlv out ; the first well sown 

"Will have the deepest root ; the houiulless plain 
Ot human intellect will ever own 
The earliest influence longest ; nor alone 

The realm ot thought ; more truly will the heart 
Yield food to plants that have been earliest grown ; 

While youth to age its vigor will impart ; 

And loveliest Nature walk thus hand in hand with Art. 



wi. 

Thou, Mental culture, mav'st behold e'en here 

Whv seeds o( truth should have a burial deep 
In the voting soul; tho' late the fruit appear. 

More sure the plant its constancy to keep; 

And when their floods life's pelting tempests sweep, 
The stem more firmly to the soil they bind, 

And serve the well extended roots to steep 
In nourishment; nor can Time's grasp unwind 
Thoughts that give birth to acts with all the soul entwined. 



'I'll i: CORN FIELD. 41 

XMI. 



Men of full stature, mighty, tho' but few, 

Make a great nation ; not vast hordes half grown, 

Half cultured. Thou, oh, Greece, what men could do, 
Small numbers with great hearts, hast taught •, alone 
Thou art not there; who laid the corner-stone 

American greatness rests on, they were men -, 
A few whose every soul on its own throne 

Reposed, men equal. Citizens, oh when 

Will ye be such ? When great and equal — not till then. 



XXIII. 



Dwarf not the many that the giants may 

Strength over-grown possess; if equal right 
The masses claim in theory, oh Day 

Of opportunity upon the nighl 

Of poverty and ignorance the bright 
Dawn quickly bring ; or else unequal power 

And grasping selfishness the rule of might 
May fasten upon right, till Freedom's (lower 
Die without fruit ; the tree last withering hour by hour. 



Tell not the millions they must be mere bones, 
That a few hunched may become all brains ; 

Nay, leed the brains of millions, tho' the thrones 
Do crumble ; make not men to grind out gains 
Machines — toil's bondmen, bound by custom's chains; 

LI - will the starving ne'er their outcries cease. 
Hunger and War ! why live they on the; pains 

Of dying races ? Feed the brain, n I 

Tin- fettered; men ami means together will increase. 

i 1 1 



42 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



All tilings in right proportion is the good 

The man should sock, and nation ; wrong doth mar 
The land where population scants the food. 

Remove the wrong; bring light from near and far; 

Discovery and plenty have no bar 
But ignorance and sloth ; wake up the soul 

I'o all that Nature places on a par 
With human reason ; and the storms will roll 
Abundance 'neath our feet within each man's control. 



So equal right in moving toward true bliss — 
Yes, equal right in progress toward a State, 

Equal in fact as well as theory — 'tis this 
A great and true Republic aims at ; great 
Indeed that nation that first opes the gate 

To greatness real, equal and diffused, 

Where good hearts move gre.it minds, nor idly wait 

The masses to be moved ; no life abused 

Or scorned, the workers live ; no men as tools are used. 



The soldier's coat; that scarecrow; worship base 
Paid to the purple, and the hat and star, 

Si ill warn off the vast millions ot the race 
From freedom and from greatness. See afar 
Where the proud castes, the growth of centuries, bar 

One-fourth the human race from lore and light, 
Or where time-honored superstitions mar 

The deep, bread lessons man would learn from Right, 

Or where wealth worship leaves the masses in the night. 



THE COR X FIEL D. 43 



The Summer's crop is buried in the ground ; 

The tree-toad from the bough begins to sing ; 
O'er yonder blue the busy light clouds bound ; 

The air grows moist, a rain is on the wing; 

Onward the breezes all their armies bring ; 
In scattered groups the sky they range at first, 

While yet the storm in doubt is hovering ; 
It gathers and it blackens — see it burst ! 
As it at once to sate Earth's overpowering thirst. 



And now the Sunshine pours upon the scene, 
That smile which Nature lends to all the earth ; 

The meadow weaves a carpet work of green ; 
The earliest flowers are springing into birth, 
The birds fill all the air with music mirth ; 

And lo ! the blade is springing from the soil, 

Fresh as young soul, and sweet as modest worth ; 

E'en now is seen the recompense of toil, 

Young beauty — oh fell Drought, come not thou to despoil 



That tender blade, an emblem of our life, 

Frail in its birth, and hastening to its end ; 
Nursed by the elements, and yet at strife, 

Oft with the nurse, its future to defend ; 

Pointing to Heaven as the truest friend ; 
See its young fingers, soon to be the leaf, 

Lungs to its loving heart ! the dew to send, 
And air and light thro' all its being brief, 
Till on the pining stalk comes fruit, its joy of grief 



44 i; II Y M l's OF CUL TUB E. 



The growing corn its infant robe has burst ; 

The three formed harrow from its resting place 
Is now drawn out ; the tooth in front is lust 

Withdrawn ; the well fed horses by the trace 

Are firmly chained, and fieldward made to face ; 
The center of the harrow on the row ; 

On each side walks a horse ; a lively chase 
The shining teeth will give the team, and throw 
A smoothness round the blade that makes it joy to grow. 



And thus the invading weed, with mangled root, 

In its first weak approaches is destroyed ; 
St) that the Earth brings forth a single fruit, 

And vegetation rises unalloyed ; 

So Nature's toil for man is best employed ; 
Her favorites from the robber plants are saved ; 

The water and the light of heaven enjoyed, 
By healthful appetites most rightly craved, 
Till noble harvests smile on labor timely braved. 



And now the tender blade puts out its leaves, 
And draws a richer verdure from the sky, 

And wider still the beauteous network weaves 
To catch the flying air ; a gentle sigh 
Is whispered to the breezes hastening by, 

Accompanied by quiet, graceful motion ; 
The upper blades like little streamers fly, 

The signals of their cruise o'er Being's ocean ; 

And all is full of life, life wrapped in sweet Devotion. 



THE CORN FIELD. 45 

XXXIV. 

A little family in every hill, 

Springing at equi-distaht intervals, 
It seems a young Democracy, whose will 

One and well knit, is stronger than its walls ; 

While each on Heaven, great freedom giver, calls 
For health and life ; oh ! 'tis a beauteous sight ! 

A colony well ruled in Nature's halls, 
Planted by Order, that great source of right, 
Which Sun and breeze and storm shall soon build up to 
might. 



The liveliest horse is taken from the stall, 
And steadiest, to draw the neat, light plow; 

Young Jock, of graceful figure, strong and tall, 
Well trained, well curried ; long ago as now, 
No stranger to the oats ; he makes his bow 

As the firm bridle clasps his brain and ear ; 
Th' inverted collar slides adown his brow; 

The hames are tied, the traces are brought near, 

And hooked securely, bright along his sides appear. 



A leathern band upon the horse's back 

Expansive, ties the traces well together ; 
The singletree of tough wood, on the black 

And hinge-like clevis swinging, at the nether 

End of its axis locked by thong of leather 
To ploughbeam, while the tree's each willing hook 

Invites the ring of trace-chain. 'Tis the weather 
The plough loves best ; so seize the reins ; one look 
Give all things ; then turn up the leaves of Nature's book. 



46 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



And now the field the plowman moves upon ; 

He speeds, not screaming at his horse, nor till 
Th' occasion calls, the sturdy whip lays on ; 

Between the rustling rows he guides the will 

Of panting Jock with all a master's skill ; 
The plow bar next the corn ; and then returns 

Between the selfsame rows, that he may fill 
The middle space with that which mellowing earns 
The air, the dew, the heat, that blows, distils or burns. 



Softly the plow will pass the tender root, 

And touch it not ; yet near enough to throw 
The caking earth away from springing shoot, 

And leave it on a ridge of loam to grow ; 

While alternating swiftly, Jock will go 
Backward and forward till the journey's o'er, 

From hill to hill fast followed by the hoe ; 
Each stalk receiving from the upturned store ; 
The heavy clods are crushed and weeds can rob no more. 



The shining corn has reached a goodly height, 

The blade is deeplv green and bravely wide ; 
The stalk erect and grateful to the sight, 

Wearing the mien of modest, decent pride ; 

The four young brothers standing side by side, 
A beauteous family, enchant the view ; 

To social harmony so near allied — 
How would the ideal perfect near the true, 
If order such as this Humanity but knew ! 



Till! CORN FIELD. 47 



Again the plow is winding toward the corn ; 

The bright swift horse is walking on before, 
Fresh from his breakfast mid the dew of morn, 

Supplied from yonder barn's abundant store ; 

See where the polished share, that briskly tore 
The soil away from those two verdant rows, 

Returns it to them ; dashing round the core 
Of every hill the mellow soil, that throws 
The nets that catch the food wher'eer the rootlet goes. 



And thus the infant weeds are covered up, 
Giving their riches to th' absorbing corn ; 

And thus the green blade with the sun can cope, 
Nor will the tender roots be rudely torn, 
If skillful hands the light plow have upborne ; 

Far down the roots have dug ; concussion slight 
Disturbs their bed ; the naked and forlorn, 

Left by the storm, are sheltered from the bright 

Of noonday, till their eyes can bear his piercing sight. 

XLTI. 

Go ask the skillful farmer what is first 

Among his pressing duties ; slightly bowing, 

(A farmer's bow by no means is the worst ;) 

The answer of his first thought may be "plowing;" 
And what is second, harvesting or mowing? 

" Plowing," he answers, as his eyelids close ; 

And what is third ? Mis steady voice endowing 

With tone more confident, and well he knows, 

" Plowing, the door thro' which comes every grain that 
grows." 



48 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



The bending farmer in his heavy shoes, 

Now sits astride the fence to view the corn ; 

His feet upon the middle board, his toes 

Well pointed downwards, and his elbows borne 
By far projecting knees ; his hand of horn 

Veiling his ruddy face ; his steady eve- 
Thrown widely o'er yon field, the pride of morn, 

So early in its vigor ; need he sigh, 

Like office hunters who the fence political try ? 



But one sad thought still burns within his breast, — 
Where is Lewellyn ? He the blight and brave ? 

Hath secret sorrow brought him to his rest 
Where no kind parent weeps upon his grave, 
Beneath some far-off sod or ocean wave ? 

Or if the Sun still lights him on his track, 
Lives there within him all that Nature gave? 

Hath honor's soul within him ne'er grown slack ? 

Then why for these long years comes there no answer 
back ? 



Rest, faithful plow, the corn is laid aside ; 

The color of the blade is deep and pure ; 
E'en tho' the drought should cut away its pride, 

Faith tells the man his crop is now secure ; 

The stalk, well taught the tempest to endure, 
Is strong and hearty, tall and branching far; 

The rain comes bounding, and the summer's sure : 
If hungry beasts their beauty do not mar, 
What heaps o\ golden grain will await the Autumn car ! 



THE CORN FIELD. 49 



How grateful to the soul the summer scene ! 

The healing water to its aching eye ; 
Still bringing horn its waving wealth of green 

The myriad fingers pointing to the sky, 

As witnesses for Him who rules on high ! 
On countless pipes of one great organ play 

The joyous breezes as they hasten by, 
While giving fragrance to the merchant Day 
In barter for the rain, and genial heat and ray. 



Among her children animate and dumb 

Is Nature's commerce ever going on ; 
All Nature tends to equilibrium, 

And final justice must by all be won ; 

For this the planets journey round the Sun ; 
For this the billows of the ocean boil, 

For this the clouds upon their voyages run ; 
For this the never wearying zephyrs toil ; 
For this the Spring creates a world from every soil 



What mysteries of life in every stalk ! 

How doth the grain at first send forth its shoot, 
The efforts of its hungry foes to balk ; 

Each with a claw so slender and acute, 

To gather food and drink for infant root ; 
And how doth flow the sap within the stem, 

The law of gravitation to dispute? 
And how is formed the flowery diadem ? 
And where, when fruit is ripe, is borne life's precious gem? 

(5) 



50 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



But now the sunshine pours upon the scene 

That beauteous face of Nature, whose delight 
Is well reflected from the jo\ ous green, 

And comes from fields and woods to hail the sight ; 

Oh, holy Sunshine, lovelv in thy might ! 
Thou seem'st the presence of a power divine, 

Making the world with life and beautv bright ; 
Thou art to soul, the truest, purest wine ; 
Oh, that would come with thee, heaven's inner world of 
shine ! 



The fields are plaving with the gentle wind ; 

They seem engaged in converse sweet and low ; 
As if they shared the banquet of the mind, 

While waves of changeful o-reen continual flow ; 

With gratitude and love their faces glow ; 
Musicians sweet, they ever leap for joy ; 

Their own rich pipes the curling leaflets blow ; 
No mildew spirits dare the plant annoy ; 
No tempting serpent may their Paradise destroy. 



But what the wind's low converse, or the green 
Rolled into seas of beautv, waving there, 

To that fond hope that something vet unseen, 
The guerdon Nature gives to toil and care, 
The coming fruit, may turn out rich and fair ; 

Stalk, leaf and flower rise, fall for this one end ; 
Their lifetime is one toil, the seed to bear ; 

All mvsteries, all motions, jointly tend 

To strike a golden coin posteritv to lend. 



THE CORN FIELD. 51 



This living truth, the law of Nature's laws, 

Is written on Creation's every page ; 
The language of the wires the Great First cause 

Sends down to electrify age after age ; 

To simple heart revealed, or mighty sage, 
His laws are truth, love, order and increase; 

Shall He, whose one word stills the tempest's rage, 
E'er fail his purpose? Nay; tho' Time do cease; 
A new Time shall be born to fill all worlds with peace. 



He traced this chart of life, he sent down youth, 

The spirit's blossom, pencilling the man; 
Bright fancy to perfect the germ of truth ; 

The wings of hope the cheek of love to fan; 

Pure reason's aim the ranging thought to span; 
The form to be the exponent of the mind ; 

So when the hair is gray and cheek is wan, 
And in his grasp the limbs old age has twined, 
The heart grows ripe for worlds where love is unconfined. 



Say not that childhood's pleasures are in vain, 
Altho' so quickly they must pass away ; 

They flourish, fed by Nature's bounteous rain ; 
The stalk, the leaf, the flower so pure and gay, 
Beneath the shine of life's delicious May ; 

These pleasures soon may form the golden seed 
The wise call wisdom ; and the livelier play 

The young heart keeps with elements that feed 

Its feelings and its powers, the richer is the meed. 



EE RE. 



■ - - . / . : ■ : 

i senses, th skill; 

To warm the state . set too cold; 

To reg _ the will; 

Dc- ss c pting i the bud to kill; 
TV stir the soul to < - 

si . 
: heart with hope and 
A::.: ■■■■ : :.:-:;. . . ■ - . ... . 



Blest s s an sges, len or truth 

Sine i sakness taught, 

H.i> '. 

the g 
The : are 

came 
Wh : ue learn'. ig firs _ U . 

Still o'er our Ian 
fhai be die - - ► the sk 



i school; 
lose n nerso 

; soul's *lc \ 

. ;ssons n 
W . > that as 

To ripen the ing dawn ; 

ITm tse the t was an 

The secret of itsa 
The. 



THE CORN Fl i: I. D. 53 



The mild, sweet mother, and the noble sire ; 

The affectionate first born, the merry Jane; 
The elder brother, full ot deeds and fire ; 

The younger full of thoughts like steady rain, 

And others coming to make glad the train ; 
What happy lessons 'tis their lot to learn ! 

Study and labor bring them richest gain ; 
Kind words are theirs, and thoughts of ready turn; 
Religion, patriotism, in them like passions burn. 



And yet a farmer's life wants not its cares, 
Us soi rows, disappointments and vexations ; 

N>t come they singly only, nor in pairs; 
Sometimes a host of cruel perturbations 
Break in upon his soberest calculations ; 

Yet often these may timely skill prevent, 
Aided by two of thrift's most near relations, 

Lumber and cash, whose services are lent 

Most freely where the toil is seasonably spent. 



Dick leaves the bars wide open to the cow ; 

She casts her hungry, fearful glances in, 
And bawls for company ; with steps not slow 

The whole tribe join her ; soon the crackling din 

Of cornstalks hearing, Tray advises Ben;' 
They raise the posse ; tho' 'tis darkest night 

The half dressed Inns the fierce attack begin; 
Wary at first, lest harm should follow flight, 
They drive th' invaders thence, all foam, and rage and 
fright. 



54 RHYMES ULTTJRE. 



The men are scattered to the farthest farm ; 

A rebel pig roots out ; the pop corn dies ; 
The little Joseph, out of breath, tells ma'm ; 

The girls turn Amazons, while Peggy tries 

Field, garden, yard sue flies 

Afar for reinforcements, and thev come 

To see how 'mid the roses Jennie plies 
The broom; thev seize the grunter, far from dumb, 
And hurl him where old sow will welcome him back home. 



LXII. 

Sometimes the little cut-worm murders all 

The slender s:ai^.. as soon as tl b ^rn ; 

E netimes the clou Is seem . ■. ;ch rain, and fall 

To drown the you 

Giving the day no eve or noon or morn ; 
.-times the Sun arrows fierce and shuts the rate 

Thro' which the streams come id all forlorn, 

The thirst shad >wy as thev wait 

The prom se of the clouds that rol a s:ate. 



Sometimes the great, fierce, iron hurricane, 

As if a vast ball from unearthly gun, 
Plows up at once unnumbc ain ; 

Or pestilences all the realm o'errun ; 

Or sue.., 
Vast anarchy throws >.': igs wrath 

Fires the wh - nay be undone 

Bv ca ; when all the toiler hi 

At one seems b path. 



THE CO 1! .V FIEL P. 55 



And yet with gratitude the fanner moves 

Among the ripening fields his toil hath reared ; 

For he hath trained his heart to higher loves ; 

llis eye seeks Heaven, who to our sires appeared 
When patriots for their infant country feared; 

And now pours down upon the thirsty plain 
The light by which yon azure has endeared 

To human sense the dew, the air, the rain, 

The <zifts that ages bind in one unbroken chain. 

DO 



The corn is man g'rown, and it stands at ease ; 

Its broad, long leaves hang down like emerald wings ; 
No more the forests bow before the breeze; 

The jointed stalks erect themselves like kings; 

And from the topmost sheath a blossom springs, 
Which soon becomes the tassel ; such a plume 

'As from a lady's headdress never swings; 
Bending each way like willow o'er a tomb, 
It hath no drooping air, but looks the height of bloom. 



Meanwhile below a sheath is seen to bulge, 

As if it held a secret unrepealed ; 
A few more days the secret shall divulge, 

Those shining threads no Chinese worm has reeled — 

The light green silk — its fibres soon are sealed 
With waxen pollen from the gleaming top ; 

The car comes out, which double waistcoats shield 
From heat and rain, but not .from dewy drop ; 
In earnest now begins the ripening of the crop. 



5G lill VMES OF CUL TUBE. 



The sap ascending from the industrious root, 
Distils thro' countless tubes its honeyed juice, 

To teed as If with milk the infant fruit j 
While minerals are collected to produce 
The firmness of the stalk ; the soil so loose, 

It yields its stores from every spot around ; 
While the minutest rootlet finds its use, 

Creeping like little reptile thro' the ground, 

And with its every move new sustenance is found. 



The time for roasting ears is coming on ; 

The farmer searches thro' a little field 
Where stand the humbler stalks of firmest bone, 

Born of a hardier grain of earlier yield ; 

He sees the black, dry silk that has been reeled 
By yonder ear that bends but little yet ; 

'Tis slightly opened now — the husky shield ; 
The tender kernel leaves the linger wet ; 
And in the kettle soon a dozen ears have met. 



Look out once more ! The tremulous tassel fades ; 

Its hue no longer fresh, but dusty dull ; 
The cars are bending down ; the lower blades 

Are curling up, like flowers too ripe to cull ; 

Meanwhile Economy is seen to pull 
Those withering leaves, the cow is hovering near ; 

He lops the towering sail from off its hull ; 
Cutting the stalk, and just above the ear. 
And binding main- a sheaf to meet the noon severe. 



77/ E CORX FIELD. 57 



The sheaves admit those curers, sun and breeze; 

They rustle in the carts to barn or stack ; 
No coarser provender surpasses these 

For tightening the milk bag, grown too slack, 

Or taking from the horse the hollow back ; 
Made intimate with oat or golden corn, 

Most bravely on they urge the teamster's track ; 
For when gigantic burdens would be borne, 
The muscles call for grain that strength may come with 
morn. 



Meanwhile the ear is hanging from its prop, 

Like an old head too heavy for its frame ; 
E'en now its beauty Time begins to lop ; 

Each limb of its fair outside doth he maim ; 

For choicest ears the seed chest files its claim ; 
And home its meal corn to be gathered now 

Demands; for high in husk where solar flame 
Devours its juices not, it hangs ; and air 
The sweetest, yields the grain pure flavors rich and rare. 



While yet a portion of theleaves arc green, 
The man of muscle whets his broken scythe, 

Whereto affixed a handle may be seen ; 

And striking thro' the field so gay and blithe, 
Soon makes the fading forest bleed and writhe ; 

Cutting the stem a little from the root, 
And leaving in the hillock scarce a tithe, 

He bears the stalks and places them on foot, 

With reeling tops around, where winds may fan the fruit. 



5S E II Y M E S F CULT I'll E. 



Now, first of farmer's, first of Nature's laws, 

Conies order; for a standard soon is made 
Just at the centre of the square that draws 

One hundred hills within its ample shade ; 

Four hills are chosen, and with ample braid 
Taught to join hands ; diagonal the heads 

Opposed, are tied together ; thus is staved 
On this support the fleece the tired Earth sheds, 
As round the rustling pile his way the laborer threads. 



So stand the shocks, a host ot sugar loaves, 

Made firmer bv the band around the top ; 
Along the double row the bright eye roves, 

Solving the problem of the inlaid crop ; 

While further oil' the winged dancers hop, 
Gathering one more feast ere they roam afar; 

And clouds are hastening from the West to drop 
The searching showers from their ethereal car, 
Tired Nature's fading cheek to freshen or to mar. 



The forests wide are changing fast their hues 

From all the countless shades of summer green 
To all varieties of reds and blues ; 

The purple and the yellow, too, are seen, 

As if a party colored rug had been 
Thrown o'er the hills to catch the Winter's feet ; 

More (lushed, yet Nature wears a sadder mien; 
The frost comes down the morning fields to greet. 
And bids them all prepare the Winter king to meet. 



THE CORN FIELD. 59 



The leaves begin to drop, now one by one, 

And now a host together, like the fall 
Of armies by a pestilence o'errun ; 

A voice is echoed thro' Earth's pictured hall, 
"Prepare the floors for Winter ;" at the call 
Each shrub and tree throws off its worn out vest ; 

The vine but darkens now the sombre wall ; 
Field, forest, meadow, quickly are undrest ; 
All Nature works with man that Earth may have her rest. 



The shocks are light and dry, and fairly cured ; 

Each one so like a little Afiic hut ; 
Within a few the mice have been immured; 

The squirrel elsewhere goes to crack a nut ; 

But few are found imperfectly secured ; 
Firm is the standard, sure and strong the band ; 

Most safely there the harvest is insured ; 
In vain the floods will sweep along the land ; 
In vain the tempest pour his rivulets of sand, 



The little rustling tents, erect and firm, 
Display within the neat and peagreen leaf; 

The ears untouched by squirrel, mouse or worm; 
And glistening like a well cut, wheaten sheaf, 
Stem like a village sweet of history brief; 

Whose ample streets, green walks and regular squares, 
Brighten the fresh cut forest, where no deaf 

Or dumb is found ; but cheerful tones and airs 

Make glorious the toil that every townsman shares. 



60 II II YM E S < < F CUL T U R E 



The two-horse wagon rocks around the field ; 

The frame o". pling pole astride, 

Is still from shook, to shock successive wheeled 

By full fed horses with their heads well tied; 

The sturdy driver lifting o'er the side 
Huge armfulls lengthwise in the wagon b 

Laid top to butt the stalks rill high and wide, 
Until across th' overflowing rack is spread 
The ample thatch that slopes well rounded, foot to head. 



So when the load is rilled to rocking height, 

The driver cries enough and pulls his rein ; 
Then move th. where smoothest tracks invite, 

Round to the fodder yard with many a strain ; 

Now stalled in mud, then on the march again ; 
Now hastes the boy ; out drop the unruly bars ; 

The sharp eyed hen escorts the dropping grain ; 
They reach the destined spot; not unlike Mats, 
They pitch the tents that shield the food for Winter's wars. 



The black oak sapling lowers its tall spire, 
To rest on forks the livelong locust yields ; 

Circling, a breastwork 'gainst the Winter's ire ; 
Where resting, now transported from the fields, 
Heads lean on heads, and weave the ample shields 

That ward off rain and snow and heat from ranks, 
'Gainst which the hog or cow the weapon wields 

That hunger gives ; while rat and mouse give thanks 

More oft as they invade this best ot farmers' banks. 



THE CO R .V FIELD. 61 

I.XXXII. 

From withering plants the leaves despairing droop ; 

No more the air is light, the sky is clear •, 
Ingathered is the choicest of the crop; 

While pensive Autumn crowns the harvest year ; 

Frost's hitter face congeals the eve's sweet tear; • 
To seek her far oft' ones is Summer gone ; 

A good old joyous meeting time is near ; 
The year's work o'er, the season's victory won, 
The harvest battle waits, the husking hce comes on. 



The patriarch's eldest son, the son at home, 

Collects his help, who with the help sent in, 
Choose out the finest ears ; and these now come, 

All plucked, in baskets ; yet the husk left thin ; 

The seed corn — these hang up as high as chin 
Around the husking room ; and next, for meal, 

Arc seen the second best, for friends and kin, 
Hung too ; the rest, whose soundness by the feel 
Is proved, to three great piles the workmen bear or wheel. 



For weeks before the neighborhood had learned 

The day toil's jubilee would fall upon ; 
And many a son and daughter inly burned 

Amid the glad re-union to make one; 

The son that could not come could send his son ; 
The t.ill Rodolph, of calm benevolent look ; 

The (laughters sent their Nancy, full of fun ; 
Bright Abby, with blue eyes that loved the book; 
Sweet Fanny, soul-cycd, who the right not oft mistook. 



62 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



A grandson, Joseph, fresh from college, shows 

His graceful form and placid features there ; 
And with him his companion, one who knows 

The citv, with a face well lined with hair; 

A sparkling humor in his keen eves fair; 
Easy and social, quick, but not profound ; 

A certain knowingness in all his air ; 
Less learned in books than men, he loves to sound 
The man he meets with, while he takes his careless round. 



The Patriarch nears the kitchen, opes the door, 
And smiling, greets the group of toilers there; 

Busy and noisy as in davs of yore ; 

There is the great old fireplace with its pair 
Of irons huge ; the flames uprising fair 

Reflected from the faces moving round ; 
The music of the pans and kettles rare 

Chimes in with female voices ; light and sound 

And air rejoice ; the good old melodies abound. 



Old Jack, a negro from the neighboring hills, 

His offering of hominy brings in ; 
Day after day his wooden mortar fills 

With the sweet Yankee corn from yonder bin 

Close by his field ; and early must begin 
The boiling "neath the cheerful Nancy's care ; 

The thirsty kettle and the fire" will win 
From her soft hand no scant supplies nor rare, 
Until the rich, sweet mess smokes on the table fair. 



THE CORN FIELD. 



Sweet ears are shelled, of gold like Fanny's eyes ; 

The grains have drunk the lye a livelong day ; 
I-:i yonder huge pine tub the waters rise, 

Pure as her soul, as flowing and as gay ; 

She washes out the mass ; so glide away 
The separated hulls ; in kettle deep 

Fall the plump corn and water ; bright flames sway 
Beneath it ; faithful watch will Fanny keep ; 
She salts it ; long it boils ; 'tis done, a shining heap. 



The bright eved Jemmy hastes to tell his ma, 

A something black is coming up the road ; 
She glances from the door and asks for pa ; 

She knows that grandpa nears with precious load ; 

The gate flies open ; to their own abode 
Come back the little travelers, George and Rose, 

Lighting in father's arms, and never flowed 
More merry gushings loud ; while grandpa throws 
The rein athwart the post so well old Charley knows. 



Next Deacon Ely with his horse-cart comes, 

Laden with sheaves of oats for hungry steeds ; 
Short, social, kind, and welcome at all homes ; 

His piety in looks and words and deeds; 

The world around him, while he runs he reads ; 
He meets his neighbor A-lace, of quick, keen eye, 

Who prides himself on argument, and speeds, 
Full oft, or thinks he does, in knowledge high ; 
Less careful for his cause than fond of victory. 



64 LIIYM l's OF CUL TUBE. 



A nearer neighbor, Arden, comes on foot ; 

Tall is his stature, muscular his frame ; 
His features intellectual ; prone to shoot 

His thoughts in quick, strong sentences, and warm ; 

His soul, his bearing sometimes like a storm ; 
A systematic worker, he has made 

A fortune greater than his friend, Vandorm ; 
Who, short, fat, frolic loving, sharp at trade, 
Has hitched his horse where both like best, beneath the 
shade. 



The Patriarch, lolling in an easy chair, 

In the gay parlor with his distant friends, 
Chats of the news, the crops, the latest fire, 

Old times, the far off" kin, and all that lends 

A charm to rural life, while Phoebus bends 
Down from his noonday track ; the yard of green 

Weaves in those lovely touches, which he sends, 
Of heavenly colors ; to enjoy his sheen, 
The friends have dined and walk around from scene to 
scene. 



The little group now linger by a house 

Walled round with boards ; the boys have there begun 
The winter preparation for the cows ; 

They see the trough of oak, the floor of stone ; 

The cutting box, where bundles, one by one, 
Drop into pieces 'neath the glittering knife ; 

These powdered o'er with meal and wet, have won 
The power to quicken spirit, flesh and life 
In Bos, whose ample bag with richest milk is rife. 



THE CORN FIELD. G5 



They visit next the henhouse, open, tall 
As Polynesian hut, with cosy nests 

And ample roosts ; its height would e'en appal 
Bold Chanticleer ; the well-known call 
And broken corn and shells, thrown in for all, 

Bring out the feathered family ; the hen, 
The little chick, so like a rolling ball, 

The strutting cock, yon border of the den 

Approach, and all take hold, none there an alien. 



Next to the hog pen move th' admiring group ; 

The cask of corn asoak is waiting nigh ; 
They call the huge old sow ; she calmly rests 

High in her upper room ; the neighbors try 

The meal gilt rations, and the young brood fly 
Quick to the trough ; an ear of corn drops in ; 

The monster mass of fat rolls down with sigh 
And heavy grunt ; the porkers now begin, 
Both small and great, their meal with all becoming din. 



Next to the river nigh the party go ; 

'Twas there for bait was dropt the golden grain ; 
And where the waters, gently eddying, flow, 

The catfish roam ; a dark and hungry train ; 

Awhile they watch, and then draw out the seine; 
The large, dark, finny masses flop on shore ; 

The fishers string their victims, and again 
Their merry way take homeward, telling o'er 
Each one a stranger tale of legendary lore. 

16) 



G6 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 



Where art thou, oh Lewellyn, that with seine 

So skillful, did'st ensnare the finny world? 
Why does thy mention bring thy parents pain? 

In what fierce vortex are thy wanderings whirled ? 

If freedom's flag is o'er thee still unfurled, 
Art thou her hero on the land or sea? 

Come home, ere Death unflinchingly has hurled 
His arrow at the hearts that dote on thee; 
Such was the silent voice that stilled that company. 



Meanwhile within the husking room the work 
Goes bravely on ; some steady toilers there, 

Some out and in ; some sitting a la Turk 
Upon the piles ; one only with a chair, 
As yet, is honored, he with silver hair; 

Nor work alone, but cheerful talk goes round, 
Of how the neighbors and the nations fare, 

And where the least and largest crops are found ; 

While wit and sono- and sense and anecdote abound. 



The kitchen gaily sings; the "Johnny-cake" 
Grave Jenny mixes ; cheerful Sally beats 

Sugar and eggs — the pudding she to bake ; 
Eliza sifts thro' gauze the meal that meets 
All that is needful for the cake of sweets; 

And erelong Betsy, kind heart, will begin 

Stirring the mush, not least of cookery's feats ; 

That whitened with the purest milk will win 

Applause from honest George, who thinks all yeast a sin. 



THE COny FIELD. 67 



The venerable grandma mixes meal 

With the least water thoroughly ; then a board 
Receives the shining hocake ; it will feel, 

As she has done, the fire ; 'tis gently lowered 

To that mean angle weight can best afford 
T' adhesiveness ; she watches as it bakes 

Slowly, but surely ; in its name are stored 
Old recollections which the young world shakes 
Out of the past, as sweet and simple as those cakes. 



And while the extension table spreads its feet, 
And down the board the linen firm grows white ; 

And queensware clatters into ranks so neat, 
Surrounding porringers and platters bright, 
And turkevs without feathers heave in sight, 

Fresh from the kettles where sweet ham is steaming, 
And pie crammed ovens open to the light, 

And neath the fragrant frys the fire is gleaming ; 

Listen how merry Anne the glad time is redeeming : 



Of everything sunny 
My song is to-day ; 

Sunny skies, sunny hills, 
Sunny morn, sunny May. 



Sunny ringlets so buoyant 
Kissing sunny sweet girls ; 

Sunny smiles slily hidden 
Behind sunny curls. 



cs 22 ;/ vines of cui T 1 1 5 /:. 

Sunny streets with the windows 
Flashing out sunny hues ; 

Sunny side and then shady, 
In turn as I choose. 



Sunny hills with the golden 
Wheat waving so fair ; 

Sunny plains, sunny forests 
Drinking in the sweet air. 



This life, oh how sunnv, 
If we choose sunny side ! 

Rolling up to the true Sun, 
As Time does his tide. 



" To supper !" cry the bovs ; loud rings the bell ; 

They come from barn and yard and granary ; 
There in the great old room they know so well, 

What corn affords the critic's eve may see ; 

Pone, pudding, "Johnny-cake" and hominy ; 
Hull corn and "hocakeJ 1 cga,s and chickens, too ; 

The steak, the sausage and the roast ; the tea, 
The good old dainties and the dainties new ; 
Cheerful they crowd around, and scat them two by two. 



THE CORN FIELD. 69 

cm. 

The housewife pours the tea, the girls assist ; 

Freely the dishes pass from hand to hand ; 
The crops, election, and the civil list, 

Are talked of, and the news ; the hardy band 

Of pioneers, as grandpa saw them land ; 
Then came remarks on change and fashion, till 

Vandorm a laugh has raised ; 'tis fanned 
By vain attempts to stifle ; with good will 
The pie and cakes go round, and cups go back to fill. 



Now Deacon Ely at the Patriarch's call 

(jives thanks, which chastens merriment awhile, 
Till Mace suggests a contest, and to all 

A vote for chief, which makes the ladies smile ; 

The hat goes round and round in solemn style ; 
The Patriarch counts the votes ; the city gent 

Commands the one, and George the other pile ; 
They both decline, but being urged, relent, 
And with the usual air of modesty, consent. 



So after consultation, each in turn 

Chooses his helpers, one from what he knows, 
The other from the little he can learn 

And sec in little time ; meanwhile he throws 

His tact into his choosing, marking those 
Who please the fair, who sing best, who can drive 

Fast on occasion ; while his neighbor shows 
A modest confidence that he shall thrive, 
However much the wit and ready man may strive. 



EIIYMES OF C C L T I * E E. 



Lamont chose Arden, Joseph, Rodolph, John 
(The Deacon's son), and Daniel, the hired man ; 

While George the Deacon chose, and Mace and son, 
Vandorm, Maguinn and Samuel ; such a clan 
As he had gathered, when he led the van 

In other years. Meanwhile Lamont confers 
With his command, ere yet he forms his plan, 

About the choicest ways and means and spurs 

That brine the victory to skillful managers. 



And now the strife begins ; with steady pull 
The country party tear the husks away ; 

Their rivals show more spirit ; they are full 
Of laugh and song, yet close attention pay 
To George's movements and his method, they 

Thus gaining sleight of hand ; meanwhile Lamont 
With kind word quickens John and Daniel gay ; 

While Arden strives with ardor more than wont, 

And Joseph, brisk as he who dared the Hellespont. 



And now the victory leans to George's side ; 

For as Lamont first imitated him, 
So George now imitates Lamont ; the pride 

Of song is catching ; labor even to the brim 

Is full of cheer, and hope nerves every limb. 
M Work with thy might," the earnest Deacon saith ; 

" The Victory waits for eyes that never dim," 
Saith Mace; "Success is eldest son of Faith,*' 
Says Arden ; and Vandorm, " The battle 's not in breath." 



THE CORN FIELD. 71 

cix. 

While George's cheerful, comprehensive eye 

Does all his speaking, so Lamont to be 
Original, begins to speechify ; 

" Think not the issue of the victory 

" We seek is vain ; Peace hath her battles free 
" From taint of blood, yet battles true, where toil 

" Meets emulous toil ; as should two swords agree 
" To sharpen each the other ; thus we oil 
" Its heavy wheels to ease the drudgery of moil." 



ox. 

Saith Joseph, " Wt are chiefly emulous 

" Not for own, but for each other's good ; 
" Tho 1 but one beat, all conquer ; if to us 

" The contest brought no zeal, our toil were tame ; 

u For progress thus we play a generous game." 
41 Yea," saith the Deacon, "as we truly love 

" Our friends, our country and our God, we shame 
" All listless labor, as our muscles move 
" In unison with the soul that seeks its home above." 



cxi. 

On went the strife, its terminus fast nearing ; 

The yellow piles in front obstruct the sight; 
Meanwhile the little boys are slily peering 

Thro' the half open door upon the fight, 

Taking fust lessons ; speed has reached its height 
With Joseph and Lamont, whose fingers thin 

The husk had filed ; but eyes and faces bright 
Came to the rescue, as the girls dropped in, 
Rekindling every thought that gives the power to win. 



RHYMES OF CUL TV LIE. 



Lamont, as Fanny nears, puts on all speed ; 

A lace and the Deacon into argument 
About free will, bright Abbv aims to lead; 

And Rodolph sees fair Sally's brow relent ; 

Jane's arrowy wit against Vandorm is sent ; 
The piles grow less and less with wondrous haste; 

The girls light up, the lamp of day is spent ; 
They soon must seek their homes ; no words to waste ; 
The soul deep toil that stirs ail In them now they taste. 



The city party's through, three ears ahead ; 

But in their pile Vandorm espies five ears 
With bits of husk adhering, and he said : 

" Such half-way stripping, sirs, in my young days, 

" Was not called husking.'' Then the Patriarch hears 
His own name, Umpire, called by acclamation ; 

And grave as when a knotty point he clears. 
He saith : "I think on due consideration, 
" These fastest and those best — you have my arbitration." 



" Then hurrah for the fastest!" one side shouted, 
And " Hurrah for the best !" the other side ; 

" Hurrah for both sides ! victors both and routed !" 
"Three cheers for Grandpa! may he oft decide 
" Where toiling armies are so nearly tied !'' 

Then hats were swung ::s Grandpa thanked them all, 
And said quaint things expressing generous pride 

In the young world of toilers rising tall, . 

To stand where those have stood, who soon with him 
must fall. 



THE CORN FIELD. 73 



And now the little ones, who till the last 

Were busy with their games of hide and seek, 

And blind man's buff, around came thick and fast ; 
In their best raiment looking very meek, 
With each one an allotted piece to speak ; 

There were just twelve selected, Charlie, Amv, 

And Frank (these went to school three times a week) ; 

Rosie and Dickie, Georgie, Willie, Jemmy, 

(Each on the stand in turn), Jake, Tommy, Anne and 
Timmy. 



CHARLIE S PIECE. 



Oh, the corn, the corn, the glorious corn, 

All in its green robes this glorious morn ; 

So rich in its sweetness I know from above 

It has come all the way from the Father of love. 

Oh, the light, green ear, it has heard from heaven j 

Thro' the shining silk is the nectar given ; 

And along the rows of the golden grains 

Is gathered the honey from all the plains ; 

The sweet breath of beauty, the pure breath of flowers, 

The airs from the song of young love in her bowers j 

The soft dews sent up thro' the eyes from the heart, 

All these to this green ear their richness impart. 

Strip its gay coats and the silk shining pile, 

And give it a steaming hot bath for awhile, 

And then from your lips a welcome 'twill meet 

As a feast no Alderman's turtle can beat. 

(7) 



:i RHYMES OF CI' J. TURK 

amy's. 

All the time getting and nothing to give. 

One quickly gets too much encumbered to live ; 

All the time giving and nothing to get 
One soon gets too poor to live by his wit ; 
But getting and giving, it is the life true, 
So kindle the fire and the lire kindles you. 



FRANK S, 

This world's a world of thriving, 
For the diligent and driving, 

For all the wide awakes : 
Don't stop to play the riddle, 
But freely grease the gridle, 

And hurry up the cakes. 



The day wants all your forces, 
So up and teed the horses, 

Or they'll be no great shakes ; 
For the day's work have all ready, 
And tell the - . Biddy 

To hurry up the cakes. 



Give your face a thoro' wash:. 
And your eves a . - sloshing. 

And muster up the rakes . 
For noble hatvestS wait you, 
It" your breakfast don't belite j 

So hurry up the cakes 



THK COIiy FIELD. 

Have a coat whene'er you drop work 
To slip on while you stop work, 

And see that Albert takes 
Of buttermilk a canful, 
And for lunch the largest panful, 

And hurry up the cakes. 



But of dressing, eating, drinking, 
Don't all the day be thinking, 

When life has such great stakes ; 
If you follow Duty's leading, 
Some one that's used to kneading 

Will hurry up the cakes. 



rosa's. 

I like the honest merchant, with his pleasant manners 

plain, 
Who lives to serve the public and not for paltry gain ; 
Who has one price, who has one face, one system, just 

and true ; 
Who does to others as to him he would have others do. 



I like the honest merchant, who does not aim to get 

His customer who has the land, ensnared in hopeless debt ; 

Who flatters not his wife's vain pride, his daughter's love 

of show ; 
And looks not in the future how the house and farm shall 



W RH VMES OF CUL TV RE. 

I like the honest merchant, who pays his honest dues, 
And will not hide his assets when an honest claimant sues ; 
Reverses but bring back to him the energies of youth ; 
He finds his feet again, for he has the helping hand of 
Truth. 



1 like the honest merchant, who has good goods in store, 
That bring him comforts from the rich and blessings from 

the poor ; 
And be he whom the world calls rich, or not, he walks 

the sod 
Upright and pure, an honest man — the noblest work of 

God. 



dickie's. 

Early I go this chill, chill morn, 

With a chorus of coughs and sneezes, 

Out where the little spring is born, 
The spring that never freezes. 



All on the way, and all around 
Are Frost's, and it rudely teases 

My feet, my ears, my fingers and eves, 
But the smoking spring ne'er freezes. 



Clear and bright, it yields to my jug 
And my pail whatever it pleases, 

Bidding my grateful heart ne'er freeze, 
E'en as itself ne'er freezes. 



Till: CO UN FIELD. 77 

georgie's. 



Merry, merry goes the day, 
While the children are at play ; 
Talking, laughing, till their eyes 
Have attained a double size. 



Merry, merry goes the hour, 
While they trip it on the floor; 
Back and forth so quick and trim, 
Running, swinging every limb. 



Merry, merry goes the minute, 
With an hundred pleasures in it -, 
When the scholars come from school, 
Just let loose from book and rule. 



Merry, merry, goes the season, 
When a tumble is no treason ; 
And as wheat is wrapped in chaff", 
Sense is covered with a laugh. 



WILLIE'S. 

Rain, rain, rain ! 
It is spoiling all the sheaves, 
And filling out the beeves, 
And drawing up the sleeves, 
And bringing out the leaves 
And the potato rot. 



RHYMES OF CULTURE. 

Cold, cold, cold ! 
It is whitening the sheaves, 
And pinching up the beeves, 
And pulling down the sleeves, 
And making way tor leaves 
And the potato rot. 



Hot, hot, hot ! 
It is burning up the sheaves, 
And thinning out the beeves, 
And rolling up the sleeves, 
And drving up the leaves 
And the potato rot. 



JEMMIE S 

Onlv set yourself to work, s . 

With a kind heart, brave and true, 
And you'll never long, if ever, 

Wane for something you can do. 



Rise up early, pray to heaven, 

Keep an eye on old and new ; 
Take right hold, and you will never 

Want for something you can do. 



In yourself von are a kingdom, 

Each one of vour neighbors, too ; 
Govern self, be true to others, 
And you'll have enough to do. 



THE CORN FIELD. 79 

jakey's. 

Come on, oh Winter wind ! 

And blow thy keenest blast", 
Oh banish from nty mind 

All memories of the past ; 
I love thy strong, deep, chilling breath ; 
It seems so like the voice of Death ! 

Come on, as thou hast come 

To yonder leafless tree ! 
Come on, in dreadful gloom, 

As if just from the sea ! 
'Tis thine to close his weary eyes, 
Who has no hope beneath the skies. 

tommy's. 

Going down stairs, 
To oversee affairs, 
And bring a pile of cares 

Back again ; 
Down the stone stairs, 
With a tread that never scares, 
And a foot that always wears, 

To the plain : 
There I meet a man 
Whose cheek is all tan, 
And whose hat is like a pan, 

Tottering on. 
His bones have lost their props, 
His hair has lost its crops, 
His boots have lost their tops, 

Nearly done. 



80 RHYM ES F C U L T UR E. 

And we all clown stairs, 
With our little world affairs, 
And our little weight of cares, 

Glide adovvn : 
Where neither hat or boot 
We want for head or foot, 
Beneath the willow's root 

Gone down. 



anne's. 

Man overboard ! the sailors cry ; 

A rope is thrown and caught ; the tar 
Up to the ship's side almost drawn, 

Has lost his hold, and drifts afar. 



Out drops the boat, the sails hang loose ; 

He sinks far out of sight away ; 
Fiercely the oars are pulled and long ; 

They come back with the lost one? Nay ! 



Boxes and barrels overboard ! 

Perchance he yet may light on one ; 
No signs of him o'er all the waste ! 

Man's help is vain. He's gone ! he's gone! 



God sends a wave that on its crest 

Upbears him where no monster harms ! 

With lightning speed it gains the ship, 
And dashes him into their arms ! 



THE CORN FIELD. 81 

timmy's. 

However rough its weather beaten coat, 
Close buttoned up around the long ear's throat, 
It keeps the ripened grain as sweet as rusk ; 
There's beauty in the husk. 

From the first bud green to the ripened brown, 
It wraps the ear in sheets as soft as down, 
Feeds it from dusk to dawn, and dawn to dusk ; 
There's goodness in the husk. 

The time comes when the inner ripens fast, 
And outer beauty passes to the past ; 
But whether torn by husker, hands or tusk, 
Thoul't be remembered, husk ! 

Faith, Hope and Charity ! fill up the grain 
Of this, my soul, that when the Savior fain 
Would seek the true life's fruit in this mollusk, 
He say not, "Naught but husk !" 



The little orators were kindly heard ; 

The District school-master was there in time 
To prompt them, and give each a cheering word ; 

And that good deeds were better than good rhyme, 

Thus early warning them ; that Frank's voice was prime, 
Some said ; and Amy's piece was short and sweet ; 

That Rosa's merchant was somewhat sublime ; 
That Jim gave good advice ; but to repeat 
All that was said, time fails ; the crowds are on their feet. 



82 RHYMES OF CULTUR 



But while the distant friends for home prepare, 
And wheels and horses make becoming haste, 

And beaux put on their coats to wait the fair, 
And kind adieus are said and bonnets laced, 
And yard Ways bv the lingering lovers paced, 

The nearer neighbors and the kin from Arden 
A speech demanded ; he In brief retraced 

Corn's rich biographv, till begging pardon 

For peroration, he in this wise drew the bard on. 



" And numberless the dishes men invent, 

" And numberless the uses of that grain 
" Which Providence to this loved land has lent ; 

"Too oft abused, to bring a varied train 

" Of Alcoholic miseries o'er a plain 
" Where order, peace and love should ever dwell ; 

" Oh that the death worm ne'er may bring again 
" Evil from good, nor bring again the hell 
" Of woes to make men brutes beneath his horrid spell. 



" The oil of peace is gathered from the heart 

" Of that same blessing that supplies our food ; 
41 And see the light in wintry darkness start 

*•• That bids the whale still live, and all his brood ! 

" Shedding its genial influence where the rude 
" And flickering pine was once the onlv star 

41 That lighted the instructive page. Oh, would 
" The hour of boundless truth and freedom far 

" From man no longer stav, but onward roll its car !' 



THE CORN FIELD. 83 

cxx. 

Thus Ardcn, when a sound of rattling wheels 
Stops at the gate, and two fair forms in black 

Light from a carriage ; then the Patriarch feels, 
As George Lewellyn leads along the track, 
A thrill thro' all his veins ; the welcoming back 

Brings Grandma in ; at once renewed her youth ; 
While curiosity is on the rack 

Who the son's partner ; he presents fair Ruth, 

On whose sweet face is writ some sad, unuttered truth. 



The earnest mother asks him where so long 

His feet had thus been absent from their door; 
He answers that the sails and ropes were strong 

That blew and drew him from his native shore ; 

That he had heard each mighty ocean roar, 
Breaking the sleep of myriads of bright isles; 

And seen the beard of Southern Arctic hoar; 
And marked where Torrid Sol on Quito smiles, 
And on the hearthfire gazed that Mauna Loa piles. 



" But why," the Patriarch asked, " in mourning clad, 
" Come ye to a rejoicing troup of friends?" 

Lewellyn darkened, Ruth grew still more sad ; 

When Arden spoke, "The evening quickly spends, 
"My own hearth calls me; so may Heaven, that sends 

"Its best to those who pay in gratitude, 

" Still bless you." Each one homeward bends, 

Save Ruth's friends, Jane and Fanny ; near them stood, 

Waiting, the cup of tea, and sweet refreshing food. 



34 

The:: ::s~ .:.; 

Ru: : . : _ ; 

Would of th' unkn. 

i 
\ind the I _. urmur takes 

one heart the s ess ts 1 
Th' occas - 

As thus L< . .-reaks 



" Y 

M Foe the heart - 

u While ... 

"Thai 

•• F st : . ask 2 
"Caught sighbor then ; 

M : - :J on th: - s ears 

" T. lat < most 

" ECnown, honored, he bee th all a statesman's 



sr sake I applk 
•• V - it the g fts 

M That make - elcome unto soul 

u ( ered from the drifts 

U T . irts 

11 The heart out of its* 

w Till calur. sifts 

fault a c: 
te*s door, I s dime. 



THE CORN FIELD. 85 



" The Empire city found me ; and a ship 
" Laden with corn, and for Havana bound, 

" Made me a tar. I saw the horizon dip 

" The seen world in the unseen ; where are found 
" The barques of human progress oft aground ; 

"I saw the sugar forests, and the streets 

lt Dark with oppression's victims ; till around 

" The torrid isles I glided to the sweets 

" Of flowery Brazil, where Beauty's circle meets. 



" From Rio to Gibraltar making feint 

u They lifted anchor ; when far out at sea, 
l< In everything on board there was a taint 

" Of crime's deep mystery ; to which a key 

" I found in cells built up too suddenly 
" And scant ; and knew our barque toward the coast, 

" Where man makes market of what God made free, 
" Was driving ; so I 'scaped the pirate band 
14 While they were watering near a little neck of land. 



" I sought out there a cave, to which a door 

" I gathered from the rocks and slender wood : 
"The wild cat brought me clothing; ample store 

41 The Cocoa dropt me of refreshing food ; 

u Meanwhile the trees, a noble brotherhood, 
" The merry birds, the sisterhood of flowers, 

11 The meek eyed stars, that pitying, seemed to brood 
" On human wrongs, recalling brighter hours, 
•* Were company for me, amid those island bowers. 



86 Ell YMES F UL T U R E. 



" One leaf was left me of the Holy book, 

" Where God points Job t' Orion; many leaves 

" Of Nature's opened volume bade me look 

" Into my own heart ; and the love that weaves 
" Life's most enduring web, and heaven receives 

" Into the deepest soul, found music there ; 

" Music in Ocean's bass, and Wind that heaves 

" Its alto, and the winged forest's air ; 

" While from the spheres came down rich harmonies and 
rare. 



" But pain, disease and terror were not strange 

" At times to my abode ; for to destroy 
" Came serpents, fevers, lightnings ; not a change 

" Of moon, but with its silver brought alloy ; 

" And yet alone with God, a mighty joy 
" Did oftenest possess me ; and His name 

" Star-written on Night's blue, sublime, yet coy, 
41 Drew my heart upward, burning with a flame, 
(C The vestal of true bliss, from God's own heart that 
came. 



" One weary eve my feet betrayed me ; down, 

" Far down I fell, and mangled, pierced the sea ; 
" All my past came, as I began to drown, 

" And Ocean first upon me turned the key ; 

" Rising, I seized the arm of a small tree, 
41 1 loosened, falling ; then fierce currents bore 

" Me senseless ; next tho banner of the free 
" Waved o'er me, half recovered, faint and sore, 
" While brother hearts were there the healing oil to pour. 



THE CORN FIELD. 87 



" By turns a deck hand, waiter, cook and clerk, 

" I shared the fortunes of the rolling mast ; 
" With a glad eye for Nature's every work, 

" I looked upon the world fair, glittering past ; 

" The lava basins by volcanoes cast ; 
u The floating ice hills of the Southern horn ; 

" The torrid azure cleft by white cones vast ; 
" The Chilian gardens, of the sea mist born ; 
"Pacific's bread fruit isles, Antarctic's steeples lorn. 

cxxxin. 

" But every where, amid the Torrid waves 

" Scented with cloves, and where the torrents flee 

" Through fields of rice, and where the land of slaves 
" With sugared song and mirth or frantic glee 
" Braves its slow ruin, leaf and flower and tree 

u Brought to my mind the corn that shades my home, 
" And her pure soul whose image followed me, 

" Beneath the palm groves pillaring yonder dome, 

" And 'neath the Baobab, Time's hugest record tome. 



" The splendor and the squalor of the world 
41 At last became my loathing; kind old friends 

" Seemed near me ; opportunity unfurled 

" Hope's rainbow banner.; memory that blends 
" Past joy with present sorrow, and that sends 

" Youth's fountain jet into the fevered soul, 

" Grew kind again ; the panting foremast bends 

" Toward Nova Scotia's hills, as swift I roll, 

" On Ocean's shoulders borne, to Freedom's starlit goal. 



88 RU 7MES OF CUL TUBE. 

cxxw 

lc At mid-night waves a flambeau, and wc haste 
"To lift t he living remnants of a wreck j 

44 I leaped with others in the howling waste, 

w And dragging two from off the splintered deck, 
li Drew them on shipboard. Little did I reck 

44 Whom thus I saved ; but how it dimmed mine eyes 
" To know by lofty brow, by snowy neck, 

" By oneness of the features, that ne'er lies, 

44 Ruth's sire and Ruth were there, too weak and wan to 
rise. 



44 Ruth soon recovered, but her father sank ; 

44 Two days 1 watched him sleepless ; all the while 
41 He knew me not ; his mind, delirious, drank 

44 The past and future ; often would he smile, 

44 And greet his kindred ot the native isle 
44 He had just visited ; and then with tears 

44 Speak ot some terrible conflict that should pile 
4k His chosen soil with bones, each coming year 
44 To freedom's mighty heart shall more and more endear. 



44 'Twas when the broad Sun, like a passion flower, 
44 Hung on the breast of evening, and the words 

44 4 Toil unrequited, lust unfettered, reckless power, 
444 Wealth rioting ; every sulphurous tire that herds 
M 4 With hell in life's volcano, till it girds 

M 4 Freedom's lost soul with ruin — it must come ! 
K 4 Yes ! slavery's eruption ! From the birds 

444 Of foul destruction save, oh, Heaven, my home!' 

44 Were dying words of his — 1 listened, ,\nA was dumb. 



TllK con A /■/ EL D. 89 



" Hut they were not his last words ; when the cry 
" Of land, ho ! pealed aloft, a sweetness came 

" Once more into his deep blue brightened eye ; 
" Then gentle was his greeting, and the same 
" As when we first met ; whispering my name, 

" 'Forgive,' he said. In tears I left his side ; 
" He heard Ruth sobbing near ; the vital flame 

" Blazed brightly as his vision opened wide, 

" And his last wishes flowed with life's receding tide. 



" l Ycs, daughter, we were wrecked, and thou wert saved j 

" 'But I must go ; give not the shark my clay ; 
"*In our own garden once the corn rows waved, 

"'As toil made glad my hours in earlier day. 

" 'From them I learned that fullest growth and play 
" 'Are heirs of equal rights ; the stalk so fair, 

'"Well braced and heaven climbing, when the gray 
" 'Had touched my locks, did teach me faith and prayer ; 
"'My unattended dust in silence bury there.' 



" He ceased ; the breath was gone ; but faith and hope 
" Were marbled on his brow. So sad and lone 

" Ilis coffining, that Ruth and I to cope 

" The better with such sorrow, were made one 
"'Neath the first spire that cast its shade upon 

" Our vessel, safe in port. His clay we bore 
" To his own chosen rest ; and sire and son, 

" Mother and daughter, now meet to adore 

"The God who brings new life from Death, forever more. 

(8) 



90 RHYMES OF CVLTl'EE. 

BREVITIES. 

The stalk that from the roasting ear 
Is plucked, grows on in sweetness ; 

And does not droop because it wants 
Another stalk's completeness. 

And so the soul, bereaved of hopes 
When in their richest glowing, 

Will still hope on for other gifts 
Of heaven's best bestowing. 



Oh God, wilt Thou not give our souls, 
As sweet rays as Thou givest our eyes 5 

And warm our being's dying coals 

Till uo to Thee their flame shall rise. 

Each day and night Thy shining be, 
To fill our souls with purest ray ; 

That we may truly honor Thee 
With beams reflected all the day. 



1SG1. 



Oh snatch the time away from sleep, 
The sun shines bright on high ; 

And lessons for the day and night 
Are spread o'er all the sky ; 

Come, then, be here with all thine eyes, 
For all the world sails by. 



BREVITIES. 91 

The red of dawn, the white of noon, 
The blue of heaven from sea to sea, 

Our country's rainbow flag hang out, 
And guide to victory the free. 



Oh God, my life, my only hope, 

Amid the chills of winter dim, 
'Tis joy to think Thou givest me 

The heart to sing Thee one more hymn. 

For since to praise Thee, I must have 

Some glimpse of Thy most glorious ways ; 

The best of all Thy better gifts 
Is this, the rapture of Thy praise. 



Oh stars and stripes ! along the street 

Ye wave where commerce rears her towers, 

And starry eyes your emblems greet, 
As wear away the sunny hours ; 

Ye wave that right may rule the strife 

Among the generous arts of life. 

Like lights of heaven, our country's guard, 
How all the season still ye bloom ! 

To you the statesman, yeoman, bard, 
Look up for help and find a home ; 

Of manhood's rights ye are the chart, 

Written with blood from Freedom's heart. 



02 EH Y M ES OF 

Each present moment bears its load 
Of news and good things home ; 
The present ever has in type 
The times that are to come. 
1861. 



Oh, altogether Lovely, how 

Thy goodness I'll remember ' 
How well Thy love and care have cheered 

Through this world's chill November. 

Oh Christ, that Thou did'st die for me, 
Thaws all my heart's December; 

Be that Thou liv'st for me, my soul's 
Sweet harvest ot September. 



- 



Oh water my soul, blessed Jesus, while here 
Neath the world's parching summer I lie ; 

Oh water my soul with the streams of Thy love, 
Lest its tendrils should wither and die. 

Oh water my spirit as night Cometh on 
With the tears of repentance and trust ; 

And as dawn first awakes, may the dew of Thy grace, 
Redeem its young leaves from the dust. 

Oh water my hope, till its stem stand erect, 
W lien calamity*! dry winds are driven, 

And in Thine own good time, blest Jesus, wilt thou 
Transplant my frail spirit to heaven. 



BREVITIES. 93 



Pinch off the worms that cat the soul, 
The pride of life, the love of pelf; 

That so its leaves breathe purest air, 
Its neighbor loving as itself. 



So shall the soul fulfill the task 

From which the Babel crowd was driven ; 
So shall it rise till step by step 

At last it reaches into heaven. 



isci. 



Mother's earliest prayers and tears. 
Childhood's first of joys and fears ; 
Studies from the family rule, 
Sermons from the Sunday School, 
Answers from the pulpit heard, 
Still, small voices from the Word, 
Glowing thanks for blessings wrought. 
Kindlings from the stores of thought, 
Judah's memories, Sinai's thunders, 
Jesus' work and Calvary's wonders, 
Heaven's pure graces, rich and ample, 
Shining down through bright example, 
Filling hearts and ears and eyes ; 
All that hastens soul to rise, 
Prayers that pierce the very skies ; 
God send these to make us wise, 
Yield to Christ and seek the skies. 



M RHYMES OF Cl'L TUB E. 

Unconquered Blue, thro' whose domain 
All worlds we gaze at, move ; 

How noiselesslv horn star to star 
Glide on the steps of love ! 



Altho* no angei voices thence 
Our aching hopes may nil ; 

We see His own handwriting there. 
The records of His will. 



He sends the light and bids us prav ; 

Conic true Light to our C 
Anoint the lids with heavenly c 

And open these blind eves. 



Give me the worst, the garden saj s. 
And the worst I'll give you back . 

For the seed that you ship in life's rast train, 
Returns in the same old track. 



Give me the best, the gs i i says, 
And the best I'll gi\e you back ; 
For the grateful s 

The hand tha: - 



me the worst, tf»e young heart says, 

And the worst 1' g e ... back . 
Nor •:, : in the da - 

Tha: the hea 



BREVITIES. 05 

Give me the best, the young heart says, 

And the best I'll give you back ; 
For the truths you send by life's best train 

Return in the good old track. 

1863. 



The gentle work is noble work, 

Delightful work it is, 
To plant, to water and to train ; 

Such varied work is ease. 



And who would set him down to doze, 

And feed on other's toil ? 
By earning his own bread he best 

Can advocate free soil. 



If thou, Lord, every morn should'st give 
A new heart full of joy to me, 

Since only Thou could'st keep it pure, 
Each morn I'd give it back to Thee. 



The sorrow of the world works death, 
But sorrowing after Thee doth roll 

The cloud still upward, till it falls 
In dews of mercy on the soul. 



W RHYMES OF ( VI. T V 

So sweet to die in Thee, I would 

There were more deaths than one to die ; 
No, let me live the life that lives 

The lovely in Thy sight, most High. 



Then may I die to self and sin, 
And not one call ot~ duty flee ; 

So when I lav me down at night, 
I die to all things else but Thee. 



Oh friends that dwell in spirit land, 

Ye come hv memory's morning train, 
To help us through the weary day, 

And bring the chloroform to pain. 



God bids you send such lovely thoughts, 

And glorious hopes adown the wires 
That bind the future and the past, 
To kindle for our souls the fires ! 



Then come, go with us, day and night, 

Where meek eyed Truth shall run the cars, 

Or send us some despatch that tells 
Ot your sweet home among the stars. 



(0) 



BREVITIES. 97 

MAIN STREET, CINCINNATI. 

At midnight, when wc walk the street, 

What visions crowd the brain ! 
All silent, save the town clock's beat 
And here and there the watchman's feet ; 
A lighted hall without a seat 

Thou seem'st, oh slumbering Main. 



What wert thou sixty years ago ? 

Then many a rough clad swain 
Along thy side would sport his hoe ; 
And maidens oft were seen to go 
Out of the cabins o'er the snow, 

To milk the cow on Main. 



But now where corn once grew so well, 

The dandy sports his cane ; 
No hoes are seen except to sell, 
And where the milk-maid cast her spell, 
We only hear the milk-man's bell 

At seven o'clock on Main. 



As upward now my pathway lies, 
Art's wonders, train on train, 

Invite my feet, delight my eyes ; 

While crowds, the witty and the wise, 

The courts, cars, coaches, charcoal cries, 
Make up the world of Main. 

186*. 



08 mi YMES OF QUL TUBE. 

ALL NIGHT LONG. 

The city lights are burning 

All night Ion . 
And the steamer's wheel is turning, 
Ami the locomotive's earning 
1 lis daily keep by churning 

All nieht lone. 



Yet Ms sad to see the coming 

All night long, 
Of so many from the strumming 
Of harps the soul benumbing, 
Where the jolly crowd are rumming 

All nieht lone. 



But a gentle star is burning 

All night long ; 
And the tides ate slowly turning, 
And Truth the darkness spurning, 
Her passage way is earning 

All nieht lone. 



And a good time is coming 

Not very tar along ; 
When War shall eease his drumming, 
And Vice shall quit the strumming 
Of the harps the soul benumbing, 

All nieht lone. 



BREVITIES. wj 



Oh then we'll joy to set- all, 

All night lontr, 
I low the nations will agree all, 
That the people shall he free all, 
For the world at rest will he all, 
All night long. 
1864. 



Night, night, night ! 

The working time of the soul ; 
When the idea of Right 
Rolls ad OWn the starlight 

And blazes the soul into coal. 



Day, day, day ! 

Tax gatherer for the night; 
I'm all the day we take in the ray, 

■us from toil, lessons from play, 
Ail which lor night we lay away, 

Out of them to sift the Right. 



Star, star, star ! 

The only real of life ; 

For far, far, far, 
Beyond day reason's bar, 
VV<- reach tin- true life's < ar, 

Where Truth's too true for strife. 



1870. 



100 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 

EQUINOX. 

The equinoctial storm this year 
Has stepped in so polite, 

He says he would not for the world 
Disturb your sleep to-night. 



He touches soft the outer door 

But will not venture in ; 
He sprinkles heaven with clouds, but says 

The stars may shine between. 



He drips so gently on the roof, 
And weeps a tear or two ; 

A much more gentlemanly storm 
Than e'en the summer dew. 



CHARCOAL! 

I bring you the stuff for the out-door fires, 

That never crackle or roll ; 
But silent glow like nature's lyres — 
Charcoal, charcoal. 



The plants will rejoice when they see me come ; 

The breath that makes them whole 
The air and the flame distilling from 
Charcoal, charcoal. 



BREVITIES. 101 

The cook can quit the smoking car 

For the ladies', and her soul 
Buy coolness if she take — at par 
Charcoal, charcoal. 



MY OFFICE. 

Dear cozy place, how glad I come 

In from a freezing sun, 
To light my little dancing fire, 

So full of cheer and fun. 



While thee I hold, 'tis natural 
I should be all the bolder ; 

For I can truly say the while 
That I'm an officeholder. 



The lyre, the law, the letter here 
I read and write so cheerily ; 

I warm my foot and foot my bills ; 
I keep the office merely. 



The world is all around me here 

Hung up upon the wall ; 
And lots on Mill Creek hang there too, 

But threaten soon to fall. 
1871 



: 

.... - 

— 



..-.-- .... 

: • 

; 



[ 

: 
: - 

- 



\ r/:.\ TIOK. 103 



S^ these got in a separate car 

With Popocatepetl, 
Ami /Etna and Kirauea ; 

Old settlers of ereat metal. 



Full half complained of being lonely, 
And of failures in raising crops ; 

And sonic of them said no living thing 
Had ever been seen on their tops. 

And the railroads of these modern days 
So leveled all things, that 

good old varied ups and downs 
Were henceforth knocked all flat. 



They were getting so tired of keeping their State 
A. way uv above the thunder, 

W hen the hands and feet of the lords of creation 
Were always cutting under. 

Mt. Blanc advised the croakers all 

Foi better times to wait ; 
For break neck traveling had been 

Ouite the fashion of late. 

Tall Chimborazo's health was good, 

Because he followed the rule 
Of the old physician, to keep the feet 

Warm, and the head-gear cool. 



104 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 

Yet in the past his neighbors all 

As far as Aconcagua, 
Had suffered terribly awhile, — 

Shaking with the ague. 



Mount St. Elias, who long had been 

Left out in the cold, 
Had nothing to say except that he 

Felt very stiff and old. 



Mt. Washington of late had been 
O'ertopped by a Southern Black ; 

But he didn't repine at this, nor yet 
At the luck of Adirondack. 



A batch of improvements was discussed, 
But as long as the air and the sun 

Were governed by present laws, it was held 
That nothing; could be done. 



T'was best to be content with being; 

Great river fountain heads ; 
Walls against winds — distributors 

Of rain — and granite beds. 



Mt. Shasta thought that airtight tubes 
From the mountain tops might send 

Ice to the cities, where liquid fire 
Turned all things up on end. 



SAVED. 105 

Then Pike 1 s Peak said he had ice enough 

(In this he rather hit it,) 
For the drinking fountains of all the West, 

If they would come and get it. 

Vesuvius was about to speak 

In his usual words that burn, 
When a motion was carried by two-thirds vote 

Without day to adjourn. 



1874. 



SAVED. 

Weary of life Pietro strayed 

Down to the river's brink, 
Waiting till dusk should turn to dark, 

To break life's worn out link. 

Not as the poor leaps in the grave, 

Not as the guilty one ; — 
Young, handsome, richly dressed he stood, 

Watching the death of the sun. 

Just then a poor man in rags came by 

With shriveled eyes, half dead ; 

" Four of us starve up yonder," he cried, 

" Oh, stranger, a morsel of bread ! " 



Pietro's heart at once was reached ; 
" I will go with you and see ; " 
And he followed his woe-worn neighbor 
To a shop where bread and tea, 



1 Otf R E V M E S ( > F C I r L T VRE. 

And cakes were ready for money, 
Which rattled the counter o'er, 

For a cup and plate well rilled, with which 
He sought the poor man's door. 



'Twas up three stairs in an attic drear, 
Where lay on bed of straw, 

A mother beneath torn rags ; — a face 
More haggard he never saw. 



And around on the floor young children lay 

Almost as famished as she, 
Moaning, till opened the door, when he met 

A dull stare from the three. 



A sup of tea, and the woman revived, 
And a sup of tea all round ; 

Slow and by little the food was given, 
Till returning strength was found. 



Said Pietro, " To-morrow I'll come again, 
And bring you more of the same." 
" God bless you," the poor man answered, " you 
" To us like an an^el came." 



" No, you were the angel," Pietro said, 
" I've something to live for now ; 

" You met me in time to save mv life, 
"•To-morrow I'll tell you how." 



ORJ<>.\. 107 

ORION. 



Orion, Orion ! 

Christ meteor, oh, why on 
This dark world dost gloriously fall ; 

If the man-soul must die on 

The soil his bones lie on, 
Thought, feeling, and worship and all ? 



Orion, Orion ! 

Thou art witness there, high on 
The stand at which all worlds can gaze, 

To the truths that outlic on 

Immortality's '/ion, 
Coming down from the Ancient of Days. 



Orion, Orion ! 

No more should we sigh on 
The trail through this wild world we trace ; 

There arc three kings thy sky on ; 

They bid us aim high on 
The path toward the heavenly place. 



Orion, Orion ! 

When shall our souls try on 
Their wings whom the truth has made free ; 

I' lying where the saints tunc a verse 

Fit for the universe, 
Glorying, Almighty, in Thee ? 



1ST J. 



108 RHYMES OF CULTURE. 

DAYS FOR YEARS. 

I've long been knowing life by years, 
For acts of prayer and praise ; 

But now the years are ebbing fast, 
I'll reckon it by days. 



This earth revolves around a sun 
That rolls round one more vast ; 

Whose orbit may be circling one — 
Of great orbs first and last. 



Then what are our years to the years 
Round that last great sun speeding ? 

Mere moments. So let years be days ; 
Their diary for our reading. 



Alas ! how much remains to do, 

To suffer and to be ! 
Let me improve what's left me here ; 

The days be years to me. 



I'll have a Christmas every eve ; 

Each sun a new year born ; 
I'll ask the Father that new life 

May come with each new morn. 

1871. 



^hymje£ of Movement. 



TO THE OHIO RIVER. 



Eden of Rivers ! when thy infant rill 

Was yet upon its mother mountain, say, 
Who fixed for aye its hesitating will — 

Why to the East didst thou not dance thy way, 
And o'er the precipices waste thy spray ? 

He who created man, commissioned thee, 
And sent thee forth to work thy bed of clay,' 

And bear thy load of waters, pure and free, 
Until their wealth is stored in the unbounded sea. 



The earth has mightier streams : old Amazon' 

Comes like a Titan down from Andes' height — 
The brimming Nile a longer track has gone — 

St. Lawrence thunders louder ; and the flight 
Of wild Missouri, how untired and bright! 

Thou art the majesty of loveliness ; thy steam 
Is an unfaltering thunder ; and the night 

Brings on thy garden banks the sweetest gleam 
That Cynthia's orb can lend to Nature's loveliest dream. 

(109) 



110 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

But thou art not all made of dreams ; the day 

Shows thee more beautiful than night, and morn 
Wakes thy calm features, exquisitely gay, 

While heaven sits on thy canvas, newly born. 
And when from thine embrace the sun is torn, 

He wraps thee with a sheet of saffron fire ; 
The kneeling trees with deeper fringe adorn 

Thy placid marge ; and clad in gold attire, 
Day sees himself in thee, and bows him to expire. 



O'erflowing Autumn makes thee all alive 

With floating granaries, and swifter barks, 
Those winged palaces, for victory strive, 

Whose morning voice is hoarser than the lark's ; 
They stir thy face to anger, but the marks 

Of wrath are quickly washed away ; the shore 
Receives a gentle beating, while the sparks 

Of fancy's fire are flying gaily o'er 
Thy ripples, and thy face grows brighter than before. 



A century ago — and what wast thou? 

The red man chased the wild ox o'er the wild ; 
The birch canoe was then thine only plough, 

And Navigation was an unformed child ; 
The Indian war-whoop woke thy slumbers mild ; 

Thou wert a giant beauty, in the robe 
Of untamed nature; cities had not smiled 

On blooming farms, and Sol could scarcely probe 
The forest, while he bathed in thee his golden globe. 



TO THE OHIO RIVER. m 

I love thcc, radiant stream ! thy banks are free j 

The Pioneer has tinged thee with his soul ; 
His bold and steady mind doth image thee ; 

Those waters which have borne him to the goal 
Of his far reaching enterprise, shall roll 

Forever past his grave, to History dear ; 
Thy bells of commerce o'er his sod shall toll, 

But. not the notes of woe ; his spirit's here, 
And walks the richest fields, when Spring renews the year. 



The torrent is the tyrant Anarchy ; 

It wars through fortresses of famine, where 
Rocks are the only dwellings ; is it free? 

Passion, not reason, is the sovereign there ; 
Who would be safe, at distance let him stare. 

Thy features with serenest beauty glow ; 
As some vast planet through the boundless air, 

Thou flowest nobly on ; thy waters know 
Their track sublime, and forth in even grandeur flow. 



Thy years shall number on, till Time doth kindle 

To all devouring flame ; and aged Earth 
Burn whirlingly upon her polar spindle ; 

Her mountains melt to fire ; her ocean girth 
Expand to scorching steam, and bursting forth 

From its creation grave, the granite fly — 
A world of atoms — and a newer birth 

Spring out of chaos ; then, when Death must die, 
Shall this immortal soul look where thou wast and sigh. 



112 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

MORNING. 

Thou art come again, sweet morning, 
We welcome thee to earth, 

With all thy glittering rainbow hues, 
And songs of purest mirth. 

There is gold upon thy drapery ; 

Thou hast washed thyself in dew ; 
And Nature seems in every leaf 

Created all anew. 



The wide old wood is waking, 
There is music on his boughs ; 

And the little flower looks sweetly up 
To pay its early vows. 

I hear the voice of gladness ; 

I feel the tones of love 
Kindling my heart until it longs 

To win its way above. 

Whence earnest thou, bright morning ? 

From the mountain robed in snow, 
Or grassy vales, or prairie lawns, 

Or streams of silver flow ? 

Or from the crowded city, 

Didst bring thy busy train 
Of voices and of winged feet 

To wake up care again ? 



MORN J Mi. 113 



Thou crownest with thy splendor 

The palaces of art, 
And the smile of calm contentment 

To the cottage dost impart. 



Thou plantest blooming roses 
On the merry, smiling cheek, 

Till from the fresh and sharpened mind 
The clouds of dullness break. 



See how the cunning hoar frost 
Is spangled on thy green ! 

'Tis like the shaft of polished wit, 
Tho' felt, yet hardly seen. 



There are who hate thy glory, 
For guilt abhors the light ; 

And broken-hearted sorrow feeds 
Upon the dews of night. 



But I love thee, keen eyed morning, 
I love thee for thy youth ; 

The wisdom of thy buoyancy, 
And innocence of truth. 



Whene'er I see thee, morning, 
I'll think I'm young again ; 

And take me fancy's saffron wings, 
And sing to fancy's strain. 



ii i nil VMES OF MO VEM /'.v /'. 

When age shall come with wrinkles, 

Ami silver, silver hair, 
Of thee I'll borrow sunny locks, 

Ami still my boyhood wear. 



Ami to my dying pillow 
C >h semi thy sweetest ray, 

As though .1 messenger from heaven, 

To waft my soul away. 



LA BELLE RIVIERE. 

Flow on, Majestic River ! 

A mightier bids thee come, 

And join him on his radiant way, 
To seek an ocean home ; 
Flow on amid the vale and hill, 
And the wide West with beauty till. 



I have seen due in the sunlight, 
With the summer breeze at play, 

When a million sparkling jewels shone 
1 1 pon tin i ippled way ; 
How fine a picture of the strife 
Between the smile-, and tears ot life! 



LA BELLE RIVIERE. 115 

I have seen thee when the storm cloud 

Was mirrored in thy face, 
And the tempest started thy white waves 
On a merry, merry race ; 
And I've thought how little sorrow's wind 
Can stir the deeply flowing mind. 



I have seen thee when the morning 

Hath tinged with lovely bloom 
Thy features, waking tranquilly 
From night's romantic gloom ; 
If every life had such a morn, 
It were a blessing to be born ! 



And when the evening heavens 
Were on thy canvas spread, 
And wrapt in golden splendor, Day 
Lay beautiful and dead ; 
Thus sweet were man's expiring breath, 
Oh, who would fear the embrace of death ! 



And when old Winter paved thee 

For the fiery foot of youth ; 
And thy soft waters underneath 
Were gliding, clear as truth ; 
So oft an honest heart we trace, 
Beneath a sorrow-frozen face. 



J t6 R U YM ES F M <> V E M E A /'. 

And when thou wert a chaos 
Of crystals thronging on, 
Till melted by the breath of* Spring, 
Thou bidst the steamers run; 
Then thousands of" the fair and free 
Were swiftly borne along on thee. 



Hut now the Sun of" summer 

Hath left the sandbars bright, 
And the steamer's thunder, and his fires 
No more disturb the night •, 
Thou seemest like those fairy streams, 
We sometimes meet with in our dreams. 



1 low Spring has decked the forest ! 

That forest kneels to thee ; 
And the long canoe and the croaking skiff, 
Are stemming the current free; 
Thy placid marge is fringed with green, 
Save where the villas intervene. 



Again the rush o( waters 

Unfurls the flag o\' steam, 
And the river palace in its pomp, 
Divides the trembling stream; 
Thy angry surges lash the shore, 
Then sleep as sweet 1\ as before. 



LA n ell E i: i VIE BE. 

Then Autumn poUTS her plenty, 

Antl makes t hec all alive, 
With floating barks that show how well 

Thy CtiltUI ed valleys t In i ve ; 

The undressing fields yield up their grain. 
To dress in richer robes again. 



117 



Too soon thv brimming channel 

1 las widened to the hill, 
As if the lap of wealthy plain 
With deeper wealth to fill ; 
Oh ! take not more than thou dost give, 
Uut let the toilwom cotter live. 



Oh! could 1 see thee slumber, 
As thou wast wont of yore, 
When the Indian in his hire hen bark, 
Sped lightly from the shore ; 
Then fiery eyes gleamed through the wood, 
And thou wast often tinged with blood. 



1 he tomahawk and arrow, 

The wigwam and the deer, 
Make up the red man's little woild, 
Unknown to smile or tear ; 
The spire, the turret and the tree, 
Then mingled not their shades on thee. 



lis R 11 y mj: S < > F m OV /•: .1/ E .V r 

Now an hundred youthful cities 

Arc gladdened by tin smile, 
Ami thy breezes sweetened through the fields, 

The husbandman beguile ; 

Those fields were planted by the brave, — 
Oh! let not fraud come near their grave. 



Roll on^ my own bright River, 
In loveliness sublime ; 

Through every season, every age, 
The favoi ite of Time ' 

Would that my soul could with thee roam, 
Through the long centuries to come ! 



1 have gazed upon tin- beauty, 

Till my heart is wed to thee ; 
Teach it to flow o*er life's long plain. 
In tranquil majcst\ . 
Its channel growing deep .wu\ wide — 
May heaven's own sea receive its tide! 



Among all the improvements this old world has made, 
There's one, India Rubber, that can't be gainsaid ; 
There's scarcely a thins for which tar or land-lubber 

Has found out a use, but what has its rubber; 

Hut the rubber for pencil-marks still perhaps best, 

Tho' this use is older than all of the rest ; 

Hut his would be genius undoubted, I take it, 

Who to rub out what's iimv^ of' mention would make it. 



THE EXPLOSION. 119 

TtlE EXPLOSION. 

SUGGESTED BY THE BLOWING UP OF THE M03ELLE. 

Rouse up the fires ! The cord wood crowds the stove ; 

The pent-up flame is flashing through the flues; 
Furious the steam is bursting from above, 

Watering the highest deck with boiling dews : 
" Put on all steam ! " the captain shouts, " and we 
Will teach the very lightning how to flee ! " 



Man loves to triumph over nature ; nay, 
He longs to prove that she is but his slave ; 

Her forces, struggling for their freedom, may 

Work out his will ; but oft, with instinct brave, 

When in his heart the tyrant passions burn, 

Witli terrible energy upon him turn. 



The wheel turns once — the Sampson bursts his chain — 
A flash as all heaven's lightning gathered there ! 

A roar as if the earth were rent in twain ! 
A horrid rain that darkens all the air ! 

As if another Sodom met its doom, 

Or time's last trump awoke the boundless tomb J 



All came at once, the shriek, the splash, the yell — 
One moment, Chaos mounted toward the skv, — 

The next, it strewed the earth. Then sudden fell 
On cither shore, on pavement, turret high, 

And shattered roof — and on the far off" field, 

All that destruction's harvest there could yield. 



120 B U I'MES OF MO VEMENT. 

There lies the Captain on the bank, stone dead, 

And he who had provoked the ruin, low- 
Lies near — a fragment driven through his head. 

Son daughter, mother, sire, where are they now ? 
Rich, poor, friend, toe, wise, wicked sink together, 
Or mingle with the splinter and the feather. 

Oh ! could we feel that moment's agony, — 

A hell extinguishing itself; undone 
Unnumbered ties ; two hundred souls set free ; 

A million deaths all crowded into one ! — 
We could hut think it mercy to our frame, 
To quench so suddenly life's feted flame. 

Less sad their doom, whose anguish was so vast, 
It forced the maddened life at once away ; 

At once they leaped the future from the past, 

Nor 'neath the weight ot shattered senses lav — 

But dreadful was their fate who lingered still, 

The captives that grim Death must torment ere he kill. 

The Sun went down upon the awful scene 

In sombre majesty, — the skies seemed blood — 

The river smiled no more from his red sheen ; 

And that dim night like Death's own silence stood 

On stream ami shore, while eves too dark for tears 

Searched by the lantern light, with hopes outweighed by fears. 

And dreadful were the visions seen that night 

By clouded eyes in intervals ot slumber ; 
And many a mother screamed and woke with fright, 

Dreaming her son was of the fated number; 
And when the shutters opened, pensive dawn 
Saw main a once bright feature withered, pale and wan. 



DECAY. 121 

But other shutters locked the morning ray 

From some who had survived a night of anguish, 

Or from the rooms where shivered corses lay, 

Where friends arc too much shocked to grieve or languish ; 

While gazing thousands hear, from yonder shore, 

The lesson that a cursed Ambition reads once more. 



1 1 i i\ois, L839. 



DECAY. 

A change has come over the landscape of green 
Since the yellow wheat harvest no longer is seen ; 
Since the meadow is shorn of its red waving plush, 
And the song and shout of the vesper is hush. 
In all I observe thro' the shortening day, 
I see the dim features of coming decay ; 
The stalk of the corn-field is drooping its wing, 
The green of the forest is paler than spring ; 
The stream of the valley is dying away, 
And the songsters of air have forgotten their lay ; 
The breeze that has shaken the trees in its course, 
Speaks out in a voice that is gloomy and hoarse; 
And the air that so lately was loaded with balm, 
Is fullest of poison when gentle and calm ; 
So death on the wing of the twilight comes on, 
More sure than the stroke of meridian sun. 
But yet if not beauty, there's love in decay ; 
Old Night hath auroras as well as young Day, 
And we see in the death of the summer's gay band, 
More clearly the spring of the bright spirit land ; 
And learn that tho' beauty is seen in the shoot, 
The sweetest of life is condensed in the fruit. 

Ml I 



122 RHYMES OF .MOVEMENT. 

STANZAS. 

Fly away, moments, 

Yet bear mc with you, 
To some brighter region, 

Where pleasure is true. 
Nav — let me remain — 

Tho' my bliss were all spent, 
If I make it my own, 

I can live on content. 



Fly away hours ! 

Yet lend me your wings ; 
I will go to the bowers 

Where Hope sweetly sings ; 
Nay — shall I be cheated 

By Hope yet again ? 
I will learn here to gather 

My pleasure from pain. 



Fly away days ! 

And welcome the night ! 
To the moon's colder rays 

I would flee from the bright 
Meditation ! that dwell'st 

In the dim spangled sky, 
In that pale burning star, 

I will seek thee on high. 



Illinois, L838. 



STANZAS. 123 

Fly away weeks ! 

The fastei ye go, 
The more Sabbath breezes 

Around me shall blow ; 
OK ave not a moment 

From duty released, 
Lest regret on my feelings, 

Like a vulture, should least. 



Fly away months ! 

Even change is delight, 
When gazing intently 

1 [as weakened my sight ; 
Yet stay, till remembrance 

Shall glean from past sorrow, 
Some lesson of wisdom, 

To brighten the morrow. 



Fly away years ! 

Ye measure my life ; 
Begone, all my fears, 

And welcome the strife: 
Welcome care, welcome toil, 

Let my pathway grow rougher ; 
I will climb with a will, 

Since to he, is to suffer. 



124 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

FREEDOM. 

Hark ! in the vale a sweet voice, 
Bids the hill and the vale rejoice, 
And the blast has hushed its noise, 
And the cataract roar falls dead on the ear, 
And the rocks of the mountain hang out to hear ; 
The tyrant is pale, 
For the breeze tells the tale, 
As sings the bold spirit that ne'er bent the knee, 
" I am free." 



A shout on the angry sea ! 
Strikes not the flag of the free, 
Though the foe the stronger be ; 
There's a flash from the sky, and a flash from the gun, 
And their thunderings mingle into one ; 
The lightning's ire 
To the foe sets fire, 
While the free ships shout, as they sink in the sea, 
" We are free ! " 



On the verge of creation, a star 
Unbinds the ray that afar 
Rides forth on the lightning car ; 
And it glances quick on the passing worlds, 
Bidding the universe read as it whirls, 
What it doth write 
On the tablet of night, 
And the sky reflects to the mirror sea, 
" I am free." 



T If E IX \ 'IT A TI N. 125 

Hark ! hark ! the chains are breaking. 

And a trampled race is waking, 

And the old Blue Ridge is shaking 

With a chorus thrown back from the walls of the sky, 

Till the blessed ones pause in their song on high ; 

Our country has spoken, 

And the chains are broken, 

And millions are singing, half mad with glee, 

" We are free ! " 
1841. 



THE INVITATION. 

[At the request of Edward Post loth way t Page, the bigli Priest of Modern 
Astrologers, the author wrote a few stanzas with die above title, which the High 
Prie ; recitedat his temple as part of the service. They are not fully recollected, 
but were 1 something like the following.] 

Come, come to the Temple with gladness and wonder, 
And see a Pegasus, his neck clothed with thunder; 
On his back sits the wisdom of every age; 
He comes to salute you, Time-conquering Page. 

Come, come to the Temple of Wisdom with mind, 
From the grossness of earth's double darkness refined ; 
Forget, for a season, political rage, 
And take a short ride to the North star with Page. 

He will take you far up in Thought's ample balloon, 
Till you hang up your hat on the horns of the moon ; 
While you hear the deep tones of the seer and the sage, 
And Mercury and Mars give nine cheers for Page. 



ISO n u ) m r\ OF 110 i"/:.i/ /:.v /'. 

He will chartei .1 comet, and then he will run 
A new opposition last line to the Sun ; 
Fare, gratis then jump in at once I'll engage, 
Youi head will be steady, while riding with Page. 



He will yoke up the In-. us in .1 lumbering team, 
And haul to the Dogstar the Poles foi ice cream ; 
He will harness the Dragon and Wolf in the stage, 
Through the Universe running the mail line of Page. 



He will take out the ligzag from lightning's red line, 
\iul compel e'en the Hiundei u> sing AuKl Lang Syne; 
The 1 u • 1 v tempei oJ ^i" m will assu 
Ami teach him the mild, graceful nunm-is ot Page. 



The Militia he'll place under Grand Marshal Mars, 
Aiul to general muster will call *>ut the si. us ; 
'Gainst Bigotry then the battle will wage, 
Till Victory dances a hot npipe foi Page, 



1 K- will make .1 great wedding between Thought and I o\ e, 
Ami invite .ill the first constellations abo\ e , 
The ring shall be Saturn's, the prayer book the Praj — 
' Au.ulu Yuga, and the Priest the Great Pa 



From the Milky way's depths with the Dippet he'll draw 
I'lu- most glorious banquet Creation c'ci saw , 
Then come, see lus Pegasus beat the great Sage, 
An,! all o'ei the Universe canter with Page! 



A DA II. V IS WINTER. 1U7 

A DAWN IN WINTER 

The moon is dying in the West, 
A few bright s(. us are lingering still, 

The night wind slowly lulls to rest, 
The dawn is creeping o'er the hill. 



A hridge of purple cloud is thrown 
Across the sky from peak to peak ; 

And o'er its centre shines alone 
A star of aspect mild and meek. 

And o'er the hillock, where the Day 
Has bid the wood no more he hush, 

Light cloud, are hovering, gilt with ray, 
That seems the hue of angel's blush. 

The rosy gleam spreads o'er the sky. 
It paints the zenith like the even ; 

Those smiles of love, how fast they fly 
All o'er the fair round face of heaven ! 



Along the horizon, ranks of trees 
Yon hills lift up to fringe the blue. 

Seem, in their frost-knit draperies, 
The far off Beautiful and True. 



Beneath tin- snowy earth and sky, 

I low dark they stood but yesternight; 

Now blossoming, to every eye 
They seem a wilderness of light. 



i 18 



/;// ) .1/ KS OF MO V E V /' \ r . 



luii lo ! the morn streams o*ei the plain, 

Vs ii i he bi idal pi I ho Sk ies 
Ami Earth had won Prom heaven again, 
The long lost flowei s oi paradise I 

( >h Wintei I glorious is the scene 

rhou spread's! o'ei Vegetation's tomb} 

As ii some landscape dofFed its green, 
Ami borrowed from ihc si. us theii bloom ! 



Sn when life's luxuries are dead, 

A i ul adverse winds its comforts fre< e, 

The Virtues o'ei the heai l can shed 
The blossoms oi Hcsperidesi 

isi; 



WHO A.RE THE FREE 

As once 1 rode through the deep green wood, 

I heard -i voice that stirred my blood 
With lis clarion tones that were not rude, 

Aiul a asked, Vk Who ai e the free 
rhere was clapping ol wings .is the music rung, 
Aiul the giant trees took up the s ing, 
I'h.u shook the skies as il rolled along, 

A ml .1 wild hii ^1 tm aril to me ; 

II We tread the forest oi swim the air, 
11 No tyrant wastes out realms so fair, 

11 Wo are tin' l ; i cc ! " 
,Aml m\ voice echoed forth the thrilling air, 
11 We ai c t ho ii ee, 



/'// /• /• D VO II' \ 01 OCh 

As once l ri ide I hi o' I ho praii ie vasl , 
< ) ei i he ocean land my ej es wci e < asl , 
l o find whei c i he wall ol i he foi esi passed , 

Hut no i"i est wall < ould sec , 

A < aim, deep \ spi ang oul i il I he eai i h, 

I li.it seemed by its ti me ol heavenly bii I li, 
A nd its in i i.i. filled I he I" n izon's gii t h, 

And n asked, ll Who are the Free J " 
The wild dowers looked with Bparkling eye, 
l hey seomed I ii« - si ars i >l r l" ightei sk y , 

And they answered, ll We -m- the Free,*' 
Ami tin- In ighi ( louds e< hoed from on high, 

lt We are the Freel " 



i io 



THE OLD town CLOCK, 



rhe "l,l i own ( !loi k 
As il beal ing on a ro< k, 
See In in delve, 
Sti ik ing I welvc ' 

W lull- we hcai a gentle ti ead, 
A ■ i 'i watt hei • i ound I he bed 
( )l the Day that u lies a dying" 'neath the stars weeping 
there \ 
A ml ,i calm deep and dead 
F ills the .in . 



130 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

The old Town Clock, 
Like a distant thundershock, 
Heard and gone, 
Striking One ! 

Hark ! it seems a single gun, 
Just fired to welcome on 
The slow and silent coming of the new born infant Day j 

While we see the dead and gone 
Borne away. 



The old Town Clock, 
Father Time's knock, knock — 
Perchance he knocks for you 
Rudely striking One, Two ! 
Then would you find a charm 
Against impending harm, 
From the scythe he has been whetting, for whom, ah ! who 
can tell ? 
If you lean on Mercy's arm, 
All is well. 



The old Town Clock — 
Is he breaking through a lock, 
In search of guilty me, 
Striking One, Two, Three, — 
That bailiff of the skies ? 
Coming on me by surprise, 
Doth he summon me to answer before the only True, 

While his stern and piercing eyes 
Thrill me through ? 



THE OLD TOWN CLOCK. 131 

The old Town Clock — 
As if Justice o'er the block, 
Whercthe axe waits its banquet of gore, 
Struck the signal, One, Two, Three, Four ! 
Lo ! I wake as from a dream, 
And the lights of heaven seem 
Hung around a lofty hall from the river to the hill, 

And amid the City's gleam, 
All is still ! 



Now the old Town Clock, 
As if himself to mock, 
The voices of the hours shall revive, 
Striking One, Two, Three, Four, Five ! 
Like a rocky hollow peals, 
With the rumbling of the wheels, 
The stone shod street, then away flies the sound ; 

And the footstep steals 
O'er the ground. 



List! the old Town Clock, 
Above the motley flock, 
Whose rattle, rumble, tramp and murmur 

intermix, 
Faintly striking One, Two, Three, Four, Five, 
Six ; 
While the Sun is seen to rise 
With the red in his eyes, 
And he drops his golden card at the Town Clock's door, 

As the solemn voice dies 
Mid the roar. 

Cincinnati, 1850. 



132 B H YMES F M V E MES T. 

FOREBODINGS. 

Thy winds, December, howl their last above the dying 

year, 
As if his soul were rent away by some o'er mastering 

fear ; 
Why dost thou then with innocent white so wrap the 

stiffened earth? 
While the sky looks down with frowning face as gloom 

looks down on mirth. 

As though the pure white robe in which our country seems 
to glow, 

Were but the fleece upon the wolf, a vile, deceitful show ; 

As if oppression from the storm had called a warning 
voice, 

And heaven were wroth that guilt and shame should tri- 
umph and rejoice. 

Oh tell me, ye that howl around my little peaceful dwel- 
ling, 

O'er North or South, or East or West is most your anger 
swelling ? 

Mourn ye the heathen of our land, or those who make 
them so ? 

Or those who bid the oppressor speed, or freedom's every 
foe? 

There is a calm before the storm, a momentary awe, 
Ere Nature wakes to thunder forth the terrors of the law ; 
Before the mountain pours his stream of lava o'er the realm, 
And they who mocked the warnings feel the ruin over- 
whelm. 



THE RAILROAD. 133 

Our country even now may nurse a dread volcanic fire ; 
See rolling up from slavery's peak the blazing vapors 

dire ! 
Too soon the lava may come down to scorch the guilty 

land ; 
But tho' destruction parch the realm, the mountain yet will 

stand. 

134G 



THE KAILROAD. 

If a brother 

Every other 

Of the tailored family 

Wants to see ; 

Wants the far world, 

And its star world, 

With its voices, to his ear 

Gathered near ; 

Wants a standing 

Where th'expanding 

Of the social problem brings 

From the flighty 

Past, the mighty 

To build up a world of Kings ; 

Wants to see 

One in many, 

And the many 

All in limbo, yet all free ; 

If he can not take a sail, 

Let him ride a rail. 
The Railroad has its story. Science first 
With her deep, steady eye, and broad high brow, 
Full of the past, stepped slowly into view, 



131 K II YM ES F M VEM E .Y V. 

Her right hand raised to lean on Nature's staff"; 

Her left hand in the Present's friendly grasp ; 

She heckoning to Confidence, as yet a child. 

Then stood up Want, not always cold and thin, 

But now dressed tidily and warmly too, 

With eager look, bent forward to the goal, 

Where Commerce, Thrift, and Patriotism meet ; 

Boldly she stood, and spoke for farms and towns 

And cities and the host of villages, 

That begged the rails to knit them into one. 

She called on Foresight, with old Caution's aid, 

To scan the prospect and mark out the way. 

And next Association, with his shares, 

Full of high hope and advertisement wide, 

And Capital, with plump yet sallow face, 

And hands in pocket, loftily came in. 

And then Organization, with his staff, 

Led on by Skill, whose sleight of hand and nerve 

And muscle, trained in Repetition's school 

To readiness and systematic motion, 

Had well prepared him for the people's call, 

Armed with the compass, level, chain and axe, 

Conquered a path o'er mountain, vale and plain. 

The bidders held their tournament until 

Responsibility had won, and gave 

Bonds for his performance ; then his force 

He marshalled for the combat with the hills, 

And put in hands of labor burden bowed, 

Plow handle, pick and sledge and spade, that pulled 

Into the light barrow crumbling red old cliffs, 

Transferring barren heights to loamy depths. 

Thus did a level pierce the breast of Earth. 

Nor was that mighty lcvcler, the axe, 

Idle meanwhile, nor his broad faced compeer. 



Til E RAILROAD. 135 

The forest yelled to strokes of fiery steel, 
And the huge trunks to right lined timber shrank. 
Nor did beneficent nature scant her aid — 
The rich old heiress into whose deep, broad 
And turf thatched cellars centuries had piled 
Rock, coal and metal ; well shod towers arose 
Defying strong armed rivers ; so the woof 
Of the long web of track was timely warped 
With threads of iron ; heavy web upheld 
By shoulders stout of tresscl, bank or bridge 
Unyielding. Commerce now provides her shoes; 
Machine shop, foundry and enginery meet 
To mould the patterns into palace forms ; 
As well as whirling feet, and iron lungs, 
For this bluff" carrier of the million. Thus 
The serpent, being taught his course, doth run 
And put on more than wings to bear his foe. 



Spare, Oh Wind, the weary and worn, 
Lone in the forest, the child of woe ; 
Smite not fiercely the poor and forlorn, 
Save for the ruthless and robber the blow ; 
The remnant of manhood the world has refused, 
Of Nature who asks but her sorriest crust ; 
Oh be not by thee this, her rough son abused ; 
To the weary leave all that is left him ; his trust. 



136 Till Y M I's OF Mo VEMENT. 

RIDE TO SPRINGFIELD. 

Hark ! hark ! 'tis two o'clock. The sudden whistle 

screams, 
Time and the Rail-car idly wait for no man's waking 

dreams ; 
My little trunk and carpet sack — is every thing put in? 
And now I hear the omnibus, with its rumbling, rattling 

din, 
Rambling roughly o'er the pavement, answering roughly 

every stone, 
Rattling o'er the graves of thousands, that can give no 

answering tone. 
I'm aboard ; good bye ; the driver cracks the whip and 

fast 
Dwellings, steeples, stores, warehouses, city joggle past ; 
Here's the Depot; men and women dropping thick as 

stars, 
Busy, busy, doing nothing all around the cars. 
Why so many hither coming, 
Without drumming ? 
Why ? Because the cheapest, fleetest, 
Richest, socialcst, and neatest 
Locomotion, puffed the loudest, 
For the humblest and the proudest, 
Ready, wide awake, 
With the world will always take. 

Hark ! the scream again up yonder ; sec adown the track 
Comes the iron horse a coughing, blustering, big and black. 
See his white breath curling yonder ; see his great red, 

staring eves ; 
'Tis Leviathan made harmless ; not a living creature flies ; 
Now he hides behind the houses, tamer horses, hacks and 

hosts ; 



BIDE TO SPRINGFIELD. 137 

Something has bewitched his motion, this the speed of 

which lie boasts ? 
Yet he's coming; on his instrument he's drumming 
Just the tune he's going to play : 
Clear the way. 

Ticket man has shut his closet. 
Baggage — see ! they safely lock it ; 
You are in your cushioned seat, 
And your checks are in your pocket ; 
Here he comes ! see how they're running, 
E'en their best friends timely shunning ; 
And we go : 

Barely moving; does the tongue quite fit the grooving? 
Hand carts are not half so slow. 
Yet 'twere sin to now begin too 
Rapid, and the crowd run into; — 
Heads are nodding; scenes are scudding; 
Cars are rattling, rumbling, rattling ; 
Passengers begin their tattling ; But the brakesman's whirl 

— 'tis dropped ; 
Slower, slower, — we are stopped. 
Here they come ! 

Strength and Beauty, Love and Duty — 
Heaven has joined their hands ; 
Law has riveted the bands ; 

Hear the echoing platform greet the bounding feet 
Of the twain in one, the linn and the sweet, 
Starting on a life long trip, Nature's live world to repeat ; 
Leaving each a home, 
Finding each a home, 
Let them have the happiest scat. 
Now again the bell is ringing, 
Quickly to our scats we're springing, 

(12) 



1 38 72 //) ' M V. S ( ) F M OV E ME N T. 

And the gushing steam is rushing, every other clamor 
hushing, 

Save the ever rolling revolution of the rumbling wheels, 

Rolling, rattling, rumbling wheels. 

Now the prim conductor reeling, 

Makes himself by no means strange, 

Large as life and full of feeling — 

In his pockets for the change ; 

Balancing along lie lingers ; 

Pigeon holes between his ringers •, 

( )nes and twos and threes stuck in em, 

Greasy rags, how fast he'll win 'cm ; 

No excuses now, but pay ; 

Down he drops the old red ticket ; 

Place it where no one can pick it ; 

While he spreads him on his way. 

Turn and view the scene entrancing; 

Trees are dancing, hills arc prancing ; 

Evcrv thing takes wing and Hies ; 

Plains are leaping; Time is sweeping 

New worlds on and off the skies. 

See! the farms are shooting by us, many a stable inter- 
fere s ; 

Fruits and Bowers, too, quickly fly us ; orchards brushing 
past our cars ; 

Now as if the mountains sundering, 

Neath those precipices blundering, 

Thio' a roofless tunnel thundering, 

Rest himself our steed denies ; 

Thundering, roaring, o'er the deep laid rocky flooring, 

Out again, then rolling, roaring; 

Sure he'll wear out ears and eyes. 

Along the ridges hear him rattle ; 

O'er the bridge tulattle, lattle ; 



•RIDE TO SPB1 NQFIELD. 130 

Filling ears he may not shun, 

With his many things In one. 

How that whirligig bewitches 

Motion as it nears the switches ; 

Here we meet tin- flat cars hearing iron, coal and wood 

For some young and hungry railroad, necessary food ; 

So 'tis Commerce, and her hand-maid, Labor, make the 

way, 
O'er the earth and thro 1 the nations, shooting life and day. 
Lowly Labor, he the same that piled the Pyramids, 
Levels mountains, equalizes when the sovereign bids ; 
And why not, since mighty oceans filled by merest worm ; — 
Tying up the shoe of Progress, so his footsteps may be firm. 
( >n the T rail how we rattle, 
Tulattlc, Little, Little, lattle ; 
Now the T rail's done, 
Ami the flat rail is begun ; 
Raking, shaking, swaying, rocking, 
Like a thousand strangers knocking; 
Puff, puff, puff, puff, roaring, rolling, 
Like ten thousand carts a coaling; 
Heads of passengers are waving, 
Forward, backward, all together ; 
Like the corn in windy weather ; 
Now we hear the furious train, 
Living, moving iron chain, 
Rumbling, tumbling, rattling, roaring, 
Like an hundred storms a pouring, 
Thundering o'er the plain. 
To and fro the brakeman swaying, 
With the whirligig is playing; 
Sensibly the storm's abating; 
Comes along the man in waiting, 
tc Morrow, twenty minutes," hear ! 



] io E // l r MES OF MO VEMENT. 

Side track — supper — town appear. 

While the locomotive rests, 

Passengers drop down to guests. 

Hark? the distant roaring, nearer, 

Rapid growing louder, clearer, 

And the scream so shrill and broken 

Of the meeting trains the token ; 

Here he comes! the great land serpent winding down the 

track; 
Past us now so gently gliding on his journey back ; 
Harmless neighbor! we at bay 
Thankful that we do not meet him on the way. 
Hut sec the groups so earnest talking ; 
Not an hour, and death was walking 
On the car's roof, as it leaped 
Through the bridge's jaws, and reaped 
Two young stalks of manly growth, 
Heating out the brains of both ! 
Hark! the mother's frantic wail ! 
See the father wan and pale ! 

Fierce uprooter, Time's sharpshooter, 

Thro' the Now that shoots the Future ! 

To the Judgment running rail ! 

Infiniteward sweeping gale ! 

Pass onward to the grave, ye cars, a mourning train, 

And leave us here at home with life again. 

Oh our meat Father! our true Friend afar ! 

Bring our souls near Thee, so that when Thy bar 

Of judgment waits us, we to change the car 

May Ik- all readj ; keep us steady 

In thy way, night and day. 

Duty bids us, who survive, 

Be to present all alive, 

I »ive and thi i\ e. 



/;//>/; to sri;,i\<:i<ii:i,n. 



in 



For the waiters meanwhile ringing, 
Changes on the dishes, bringing 
Viands round us, quite confound us 
With their kindness and good breeding ; 
Then a newsboy brings us reading; 

I lai k, the lull once more ! 
Now the supper's o'er ; 
Back again our path we find, 

I I a mouthful we're dividing, leaving half" behind. 
All aboard! then puffing, rattling, rumbling, tattling, 
Rolling, roaring, roaring, thundering, 

Sound's vast sanctuary plundering, 
t 'i eatures wondering, 
Flying, leaping, prancing, rearing, 
Sec i hem starting, stopping, staring, 
Tails are upward, heads are downward, 
Colts and cattle si icak it townward ; 

Nature, late so calm and gay, 

All in haste to clear the way. 

Now the iron horse is hungry, feed him with a tree or two, 

Chopped to mincemeat, give him drink — there, that will do. 

I lot for work, lie makes a warm road, 

Lively, modernized reform road, 

Making all the New World sweat, 

Till it gets the realm in debt. 

Rolling, roaring worse than ever ! 

After meal, no rest? no, never; 

I!. ul digestion is with him quite out of question. 

Pleasant Striding long, long bill ; 
Pleasant hiding under mill, 
Pleasant skimming pea green river, 
River flowing calmly under, 
Ruffled no: a whit by thunder; 
Pleasant mid this furious din. 



l\2 mi y M ES OF MO VEMENT. 

Life's great chorus to bring in ; 
Voices from the City's street ; 
Shoutings where the masses meet ; 
Ringings from the country road ; 

Singings from the swain's ahoilc ; 

Classic clamors which the ear 
Of sell" government must hear; 
Fountain gushings, river rushings, 

Solemn bells, organ swells ; 

Tones of worship's mighty oneness, 

True to social life and loneness ; 

Trade winds moaning in their race; 

Ocean's bass, warnings from the heavenly place; 

But until we reach thai shore, 

Wave on wave we're rolling o'er, evermore. 

Now the plain spreads out before us, 

Endlessly toward the West, 

With its milk white mansions gleaming, 

With the gold of Autumn teeming, 

Plenty, loveliness and rest. 

So the soul, mature and upright, 

From experience bringing up light, 

Widely spreads its thought and deed, 

Gathering for the world its need. 

Oh how blessed they who (ill the ample nest, 

Bosomed on the faithful breast 
Of \on far off realm of rest! — 
Four new feet are pressing the form ; 

Three new faces ; one bundled up warm ; 

A little car hitched to the long train of Being, 
A new ray of light from the Sun —the All-seeing; 
A carriei *\^\c from the Great Unknown; 
A little stai sent to woik out ils own; 

A new eye (n tjic. Universe, waiting tor thougni , 



i: I n i: TO SPRINGFIELD, 



143 



A diamond, by suffering's edge to be wrought ; 

( )ne more little drop in the great sea of soul ; 

A little red cloud thai may spread o'er the whole; 

A new recruit for life's greal battle; 

Ami ulut .in- the cars bui the world child's rattle? 

Sweet youth, go not in the downward road, 

But in the straight track oi Truth whirling hack, 

Cio up to t li\ ( rod. 

Again the foi ests hem the I rack, 

Some shrewd land-owner's keeping back 

For cottage In es, year after year, 

Whose in.inv suiukrs we quickly near; 
( )r lor the shops ei e lon:\ to hll 

Ea< h farm with shining untensil ; 
( )h grand old forest, all that's left 
Ol t he new woi Id's romanl ic old, 
That withers neath tin- touch ol gold — 
()t its red hunters all bereft; — 
( )li grand ohl forest, hold thine own, 
Or even Att may lose liis throne. 
Now the t ickel man onee moi c 

Staggers as he did befoi e ; 

Take your tickets hack and welcome, 

Soon the beauteous Springfield shall come, 

So we play your cards no more. 

1 1. nk ! the scream so shrill and deafening, 
Open bursts the ear oi evening*; 

Si i eam, t he unison ol screams, 

And manufactured out ol hideous dreams; 
By woe imported from a dozen hells ; 

Lou-, |,. nd and lofty, 'lis the yell of yells ; 

Is it the neigh ol our expiring steed ? 
I lai k ! again that awful s< i eam ' 
I . i ce .\\\>\ fiery spirit, steam, 



144 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

Pours his life out in that scream ! 

Mingled with the rattling, rolling, 

Loud as great guns after polling ; 

Through the steep down gulley tumbling ; 

Faster, faster grows the rumbling ; 

Cars are parting and diverging, 

Forward darting, gently urging 

Past yon cottages each other, 

Where is consort, friend or brother ; 

Death the soul of steam is humbling ; 

Softer, softer grows the rumbling ; 

There the Railroad House is blazing ; 

There's the place of friendly greeting ; 

Now the happy, mirthful meeting ; 

Here the depot we begin to 

Softly, quietly run into ; 

And the stable for our steed is all wide open there j 

Here we are. 

1853. 



Oh beautiful September, lovely shine 
Wakes all thy joys, when infant joys are thine ; 
But as thy days come faster, storm wakes up 
And dashes in thy face the brimming cup ; 
The clouds, like tassels, hang around the sky ; 
The hours in their unrest are hurrying by, 
All bound to work out some sensation time, 
While dying Beauty wills her all to the sublime. 



1800. 



NEW YEARS DAY. 145 

CHANGE. 

Glad heavens and clear, that follow long 

On cloudy days and stormy nights ; 
When Freedom washes out our wrongs, 

Then may she glad us with our Rights. 

What myriad elements unite 

To form this living, breathing whole ! 

What varied actions, trials, v/ords, 
And records fertilize the soul ! 

The changing treasures of the past, 

All things that heaven rains down on earth, 

Make up the living waste of blood, 

And give each week of years new birth. 



NEW YEARS DAY. 

It nears the hour of midnight. There is joy 
In many a hall ; such joy as locks the door 
On bliss, and ere long stuns the ear of Truth. 
There's many a merry dance upon the grave 
New made of the departed year ; yet as the clod 
Falls heavily upon its coffin, and the blast 
Moans sadly o'er it, keen and curious eyes 
Are glancing forward to the new-born year 
As if to read the secrets of its heart. 
But let me with an eye, if ever bright, 
The past has dimmed, beseechingly look up 

To the Great Father for the better sense, 

i 



H6 /.' // V M ES <> F .1/ VE M E X T. 

In the Time's blotted page and paling ink, 

To read the faithful lessons of the past. 

Alas for wasted moments and resolves ' 

Alas for calm hours lest to thankfulness ! 

Alas for better aims burnt out too soon ! 

And earnest thought slow kindling, and ere flamed, 

By heaped up trifles clogged and burnt to smoke ! 

Ah why so little real to my thirst 

Th' exhaustless fountains of the worth of soul ! 

Then give me sorrow, but no vain regrets ; 

Give me the tears that water the new life, 

The sorrowing that makes better. Bind, oh wires, 

The old and new ; let the old year's mistakes 

Train the young year for Right and Victory. 

Give me the aims that give the zest to toil ; 

The aims within his reach who builds on God, — 

Too strong for winds of circumstance. My soul ! 

Be not thou crowded off' from Duty's track ; 

The young year welcomes thee ; so let thy prayers 

Be deeds, wearing life's year out. If I fail 

To win the battle, let me fight at least 

With what in me is ill before I die. 



Moon that sinks away in shade ; 

Gems of life laid safe away ; 
Nature's merriest music played ; 

Blushes (Mi the cheek of day ; 
Mists that slowly disappear, 
Night is gone and day is here. 



DOWN THE STREAM. 147 

DOWN THE STREAM. 

Gliding, gliding down the stream, 
Buried in a joyous dream ; 
Merry waters'' laugh I hear 
Ever round me ringing clear ; 
Tickling as they pass me by ; 
Kissing car and check and eye ; 
'Tis delight itself to dream, 
Gliding, gliding down the stream. 



See me gliding down the stream, 
Catching fashion's changing beam ; 
To the world my flattery giving, 
And its flattery receiving ; 
Never hearing Duty's call ; 
Making pleasure all in all ; 
Living but to see and seem ; 
Gliding, gliding down the stream. 



Gliding, gliding down the stream, 
Drunk with pleasure's luscious dream ; 
Drinking till the sense is numb, 
And delight at last is dumb ; 
Worn out senses next complain, 
Stinging every nerve to pain ; 
Stripped of all delight I dream, 
Rushing, rushing down the stream. 



MS n II VMES OF MO VEMEN I'. 

Rushing, rushing down the Stream, 
Now it grows a fearful dream ; 
Scenes around arc sterner, prouder ; 
Waters rolling fiercer, louder ; 
Snags and rocks, they pass me by, 
Beating check and car and eye ; 
Oh 'tis agony to dream, 
Rushing, rushing down the stream ! 



Rushing, rushing down the stream ! 
Doubt and terror ! — awful dream ! 
Honey gone and left the sting ; 
Passion my fierce tyrant King ; 
Fell Despair has stunned my soul ; 
As a drifting log 1 roll ; 
Till where Ruin's cataracts gleam, 
One last mad plunge with the stream ! 



Oh Winter, thou with arrowy frost 

Dost drive us to the lire, 
That for our wounded sense prescribes 

The speech, the song, the lyre. 

Boy January, thou dost conic, 

Spoiled child of holidays, 
To strew live roses round our hearts, 

And all along our ways. 



Co M E HOME. lid 



COME HOME. 



When skies arc bright and flowers arc gay, 

Aiul honey breezes wildly roam, 
'Tis Nature doth herself display, 

She only says, " Come home, come home." 

When skies are dark and flowers arc gone, 
And weary storms with pattering come, 

There is a milder joy unwon ; 
Go seek it at the fireside home. 

When life has burnt his candle out, 
And dim blue torches guard the tomb, 

Then mayst thou hear the joyful shout, 

" Oh happy soul, come home, come home." 



Come gently down, ye April rains 
Upon the widow's garden spot ; 

Spoil not the out come of her pains, 
Her little all, oh harm it not. 

Come gently down like morning dew 

Upon her vegetable wealth ; 
'Tis little that she has, 'tis true, 

Besides her harvest, home and health. 

There's One who hears the widow's prayer, 
There's one who gives her daily bread ; 

Her early herbs and late flowers spare, 
So oik- whom Jesus loves is fed. 



L50 R II YM I's OF MOV EM E \ T. 

FOUND. 

Fierce were dn- words <>i the Wind and Frost, 

Sent deep thro' the fibres «>i soul ; 
Aiul da- ground was hard hearted .is little young John 

Went oui foi .1 basket oj < oal, 



Foi In- was Ins motlui 's only son, 

Ami she .1 widow and pool ; 
And famine .mil cold when the one went out, 
ihe ol hei came in at the dooi . 

I ittle young fohn was the last who was served 
Willi .1 basket ol coal from the \ aid ; 

Ami tlu- night gathered round, and the pathway home 
\\ as hi oken, uneven and li.n d. 

Ills Kit .urn stretched, and his right ahold 

( h t he bui den, on he went ; 
Till lu-> foothold lost, he fell on his head, 

Was stunned, .mil his strength was spent. 

( >M Winter had drugged the aii foi him, 

A ml w as putting him fast asl tep , 
When the billeted watchman (.aim - thumping In, 

1 he night U peace t»> keep. 

And hi- signaled foi kelp, ami it came, and they bore 

I'hc lad tot he station house iumi , 

With his basket oi coal; ami he lay on his head, 
Si iffened as on lm biei . 



i/ / s r 



i .1 



And they wrapped him warm, and they rubbed him well, 

Till Ins In ciih came bat k on< c mi u e, 
And he said, tl Dcai mother, I'm coming soon,*' 

A nil glanced ;ii the opened dooi . 

Not long ere a woman was senseless broughl 

Ami laid in another room ; 
Ami womanly words and works drew neai 

To In in;; her senses home. 

And when they came bat k, " My son, 11 she said, 

A nd t lie stoi v soon was told ; 
And the boy and his mother were sent haek home 

W'n I) coal and bread and gold, 



MIST. 

I lie sky is all asoak, 

And the eai th is all a bog, 

And i he stone pile fit v I'm ied in 
Immeasurable foe 

The spire shot up from yonder ehnieh 

Almost dissolves in smoke ; 
I he I'Oofs are lost, the hill, :ne gone, 

I he world's heari seemeth broke. 



Come back, come hack, thou glorious sun, 

( oine haek, thou living blue ; 

( )ui country is dissolved in smoke ; 

Its he, ii thin CS hnild anew ! 



152 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

POETRY. 

Spirit of Poetry, come from the hills 

With a halm for my care wearied heart ; 

Oh come with the music of soft flowing rills, 
And thy exquisite gladness impart. 

Oh come with the dawn hues new born of the cloud, 
When the light skims the horizon's shore ; 

Oh come from the far forest dreaming aloud, 
Ere the lark trims his pinions to soar. 

Oh come from the ranks of the shining young corn, 
When the wind stirs the field to a wave ; 

That leap with the joy of the husbandman's horn — 
Beauty's dead, just awaked from the grave. 

And bring me the answer of yon lofty peak 
To the shout of the huntsman below ; 

And the dance of the bells, when the forest is bleak, 
As the horses glide over the snow. 

And bring; the wild music of waves rolling on. 

Rolling on to the shores of the tree ; 
Oh could they but echo one voice that has gone 

To shoreless Eternity's sea ! 

And bring me a glance from the lightning's fierce eye, 
And the song of the far rolling thunder; 

And while I remember the Almighty is nigh, 
May my heart grow electric with wonder. 



WELCOME. 153 

Bring the infant's sweet eye, that fountain of light, 

The morn on the features of youth ; 
And the visions that glitter and glow in their flight, 

Round and round toward the temple of Truth. 

« 
Spirit of Poetry, come from the skies, 

With the peace dews that brighten the heart ; 

Oh come with the music of hope that ne'er dies, 

And unspeakable gladness impart. 



WELCOME. 

Come, Winter, to my soui ; 

The year has done his best ; 
The winds, the seasons' funeral toll 

Shall sing above their rest ; 
And thou to moaning ocean go, 
And bring from thence a shroud of snow. 

Come on, come on ! the chill 
Of thy rude, strong embrace, 

Is summer to the frosts that kill 
The virtues of our race ! 

Spring soon shall bid the streamlet start — 

But what can melt a frozen heart ? 

Come With the ruddy cheek, 

The stern and fearless eye ; 
Yet 'neath thy voice shall mercy speak, 

Tho' terror fills the sky. 
For if thy clouds are black as night, 
They fall in showers, like showers of light 



1j4 rhymes of movement. 

PALESTINE. 

Come, come to my soul's eye, blessed region of story, 
Where Jehovah displayed the excess of his glory ; 
Where Israel's sweet singer in gladness adored, 
And the prophets went forth in the strength of the Lord. 

Bright land of the cedar, the olive and palm, 
O'erflowing with milk and with honey and balm ; 
Were the people thy valleys have nurtured now free, 
How quick toward thy mountains my footsteps would be ! 

Oh home of the visions that wander to bliss ; - 

The hope of a brighter world kindled in this ; 

Could my freed soul toward heaven this moment take wing, 

I would pause on the land where th' Almighty was King. 

Even now in the spirit I seem to be thege, 
On the mount where the Savior's voice melted in prayer ; 
And there on the plain where the thousands were fed, 
And there where the loved one was raised from the dead. 

And there on the hill where the cross was displayed, 
And a world's weight of sin on his shoulders was laid ; 
And oh let me gaze with a penitent's eye 
Where He, lifted up, drew the earth to the sky. 

Bright land of the saints long departed from time, 
We all shall behold thee in heaven's own clime ; 
If the God whom we fear is the God whom we love, 
lie will lead us to thee, a new Canaan above. 



THE SPRING, 



THE SPUING. 



Sweet little spring ! 
Out of the hillside by the way 
Thou comest ever, night and day ; 
Ever clear and pure and gay ; 
Dripping out of Nature's bosom, 
Bright and balmy as a blossom ; 
Now a bubble, now a mirror, 
Thou of man and beast the cheerer, 
Lookest in the face of heaven 
Thanks for light so freely given ; 
Then adown thy clayey bed, 
Sweetly trickling little thing, 

Dost thou glide and sing. 



Pure flowing spring ! 
Thou stayst not in thy bed of clay ; 
But bubblest up all night and dav, 
And glidest out and roll'st away ; 
Dripping down a little steep, 
Like Passaic thou dost leap 
Into a channel never deep ; 
Then thro' rock, mud, ice and snow 
Merry and winding wilt thou go, 
To help wash out this world of woe. 
To thee is given, and thou dost give, 
Ever living, letting live ; 
Still oh sparkling little spring, 

Trickle, bubble, sing. 



15G E TIT M E S < ) F M <>V E M E .V 2'. 

Gay, bounteous spring ! 
Within thy cozy, rock-walled mug 
I dip at morn my faithful jug ; 
A welcome, as I draw the plug, 
Thou givest me, and trickiest in, 
To quench my thirst, with merry din, — 
Till gurgling up to very chin, 
Thou criest enough, and back I go, 
As thou dost, through the mud and snow, 
Up sideling path where grass shall grow, 
And fainter hear thy voices ling, 

" Live well, let live, 

" Receive and give," 
While I respond, " Sweet little spring, 
" Ever glide and sing." 

1S5S. 



BEAUTIFUL DAY. 

Beautiful day ! 

Clearing away ; 
Beautiful cloud and beautiful ray ; 
Pure airs that make us so glad all the day ; 

Beautiful, beautiful day. 

Beauty's sweet guises ; 

Gentle surprises ; 
Air, light and water, Nature's franchises ; 
Smoke from Love's hearth-fire so gentle that rises ; 
Steam that tires never of toil's enterprises ; 
Love's breath all round us, that soul oxidizes ; 

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Daw 



ism. 



C AMPIN Q OUT. 157 



CAMPING OUT NEAR LAKE SUPERIOR. 

Ten miles to the last of the dwellings behind, 

Ten miles to the first ahead ; 
And I was afoot and aweary and lone, 

As the sun went down to his bed. 



For all day long had I followed the trail, 

Whose dreamy course was run, 
As if 'twere the track of a monster snail 

In the days of the mastodon. 

A friend with a sweet low voice then said, 
" Come hither and make your tea ; " 

For a little rill went singing by, 

Where tree joined hands with tree. 

A fire flashed out of the fallen pine 

And sweetened a supper for me ; 
Tho' I saw thro' the bush a young circle of stars 

Laugh at my tin cup of tea. 

And the pine tree lent me its soft young limbs 

And its fallen leaves for a bed ; 
With the fire at my feet I laid me down, 

My bundle 'neath my head. 

Did I dream of five thousand dollar beds, 

Or the Esquimaux's bed of snow ? 
Did my soul through the mazes of Future and Past 

On a voyage of discovery go? 



158 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

Did I dream of the red retreat of the fierce, 

Or the white march of the free ? 
Of the wide, wide wilderness world that has been, 

Or the city world that's to be. 



Did visions of dragons and wild beasts invade 

(Beneath the crumpled up hat) 
The eyes that were hanging ajar ? Oh no, 

My sleep was too sound for all that. 



No serpent hissed, or panther screamed 
Thro' all the night long, for you see, 

The musquito tribes had already made way 
With every thing living but me. 



But once as the brisk air gave me a hunch, 
As the fire grew ashy and low; 

And a hand and a foot went creeping around 
Till the pile was all aglow ; 



I heard a savage voice afar, 
" The red man is avenged ; 
" But War shall wring the Right out of the Wrong 
41 Till the world's face shall be changed." 



Whether that voice from a lone old chief, 
Or a crazed one, it did not say ; 

But I thought of the Babylon of chains, 
As its echoes rolled away. 



AWAKING. 159 



Refreshed and grateful I drank my tea, 
As the sun rose up from his bed ; 

Said the twink of his eye, I am with you on 
To the working mines ahead. 



And I saw that our land was a mighty camp, 

And the nation must yet camp out ; 
Ere the hosts that have crushed the true life of our race 

Shall be finally put to rout. 

1800. 



AWAKING. 

How cheerful is a morning walk 
Ere breakfast bell is rung ! 

How rich to hear the forest talk, 
To whom the lark has sung ! 



To see the wheat field's velvet green 
Amid the winter's waste ; 

The willow blooming o'er the scene, 
And bidding spring make haste. 



To feel the blood thro' all the veins, 

A jet of glad surprise ; 
And see a pathway o'er the plains 

That reddens up the skies ! 



100 



i: ii ) 1/ / ■•.-. OF MO VKM r \ r. 



GO AHEAD. 

( rO .ilicul is din motto ; a noble one too ; 

ll DaVV e!nl s.i\ i!, Us none tin- less tiuc; 

I'w.is inn- .is I. ii bat L from tin- birth-day "i Crocket! 
As the houi when the globe was first thrown in iis socket ; 
When ilif il\ wheel oj earth was well fixed in its bed, 
Said Nature, lt All's right} and now go .ilic.nl." 



We ic.nl that Creation, ere yet ii was warm 
From the hand oi its Maker, was wanting in form ; 
And darkness was king o'er the face "i the deep, 
When the beautiful light was first wakened from sleep; 
Then .ii tunc on us way through creation it sped, 
Till Night rubbed Ins eyes .mil Baw something ahead. 



Then woke the VOUIlg spirit of motion, .nnl gave, 
A shove to tin- se.i .mil .iw.iv Went the w.ivc , 

Ami n took tin- huge stride oi" a giant from birth, 

Ami il's footfall Was soon hc.iiil .ill o\ ei the e.nth , 

Ami from that day to tins it ne'er could be said. 
The ocean eei wearied oi i',* 11 "!', -ihe.nl. 



The grass threw its green vest all over the plain, 

And the stalk Boon ex< hanged ns gay flowers foi the grain ; 

Tin- herb .i n J the nee clambered up from the shoot, 

Extended then branches and hehl out then fruit ; 

\inl the great lights and lessei wen- marshaled, and led 

lo In i place in the grand march, Earth bounded ahead. 



All K I I). 

And so comes the Sun, wheeling liighei and higher. 
I hrowing out, aa he passes, I hi lif< gi> ing fire, 
Till geni ly di si ending I he i idgi oi I h<- Bk v, 
I le leaves geni le ( \ nl hia his place to supply , 
Day and Night, as the Captains, alternately tread 
I he bright dc< k oi Time while the ship goes ahead, 



ii;i 



And down the long rivei oi agi • the Right 

And the Onward have given to progress its might ; 

lint in these iron days oi the rail and wires, 

When we inn li.ini the in. in, a9 WC I Ii.iiii up I he Iik ., 

Say we altei I he motto, and now be il i aid, 

First lay down youi tra< k well, and then go ahead. 



And as in those days oi the i i n oi old Nij'hi, 
I he movemeni w.w opened by stiiking .1 lighi ; 
So now to dethrone him and evermore foil 
I in- 1 1 it ks hi 1 "in eals, we bon to strike oil ; 
And waking the old buried earth from the dead, 

We light up our p;illiw;iy .ind thl n gO .1 1 n .id. 

I 1,:. 



K unning away, all, all i 

Y( i, old I in.'- is 1 unning away, 
I In o' 1 lie shine, rain, hail and -.now, 
F .1 ,1 .1 . he ' .in go, 



11. 



102 11 II V M ES OF MOV i: M A' N T. 

FIRMNESS. 

Stand up, stand up against the wrong, 

Stand firmly for the right ; 
For Right will triumph over wrong 

As sure as day o'er night. 
Each man's a stone in that great wall, 
Round Truth's vast towers that never fall. 

Stand up, stand up, when fierce winds come 

To hurl thee to the ground ; 
Rememher God, thy Father then, 

Whose goodness knows no bound ; 
Tho' storms may blow thine eyesight dim, 
Stand up and lift thy voice to Him. 

Stand up, when furious clouds are fleet, 

To batter down the true ; 
For manhood, crushed by many feet, 

Is hardest to renew ; 

Strongest of souls has ever been 

His, who has stood the shock of men. 
1863. 



Oh if the Sun did always shine 
From skies of never sullied view, 

Alas ! how little of Divine 

Would dwell in Nature's lifeless hue ! 

If one unvarying light there were, 

All o'er the heaven's unbounded scene, 

Oh who could see th' Almighty where 
There comes no cloud to intervene ! 



VO Y A QE OF LIFE. i 6 3 

VOYAGE OF LIFE. 

On being's flood, oh Lord, I go, 
Amid the rocks of sin and woe ; 
But while my vessel plows the wave, 
Oh Pilot, only Thou cans't save. 

Ne'er let my soul's foundation fail ; 
With hope and gladness swell its sail ; 
Its compass be Thy holy word, 
Its course toward Thy throne, oh God. 

When all around life's dark blue sea 

Is beautiful tranquility j 

Then may Thy strong but viewless arm 

Still speed me through the treach'rous calm. 

And when the gale shall toss the forms 
Of cloud and beat them into storms ; 
And all the heavens are lost in ni<rht. 
Wilt Thou lift up a beacon light ? 

And when my foes with threatening gun 
My helpless bark shall charge upon ; 
Then for the battle make me strong, 
And bid me sing the.victor's song. 

So may at last my struggling sail 
The port of heavenly glory hail ; 
And when I see Thee as Thou art, 
I'll praise Thee with a mightier heart. 



[04 



U ii y m KS OF M<> I r 1/ /' \ /'. 



A PRAYER. 

Oh Thou who dwcllest everywhere. 
To Thee I liii my eai nest praj ei , 

Phi o 1 [esus* pi ecious blood ; 
Thai Thou would'st teach mj thoughts to be 
Where'et 1 dwell, or move, with I hee, 

With Thee, the only good. 



When in the day 1 walk the street, 
M.r, I Thy glorious presence meet, 

,\i ound, bej ond, above ; 
Ami feel the gloi y oi the sti ife 
lii. ii wars with .ill the ills of life 

Is universal love. 



My body when I bend to toil, 

M.i\ blessings springing from the soil 

Still bring Tin goodness nigh , 
And written on each leal and (lower, 
( Mi may I'lw boundless love and powei 

Make glad mj kindling ej e, 



Ami when m\ iniml begins its task, 

I 'hy kind assistance may 1 ask 

l'o guide us sirps .u ight . 
Foi thou \\lu> maa'st the mind can tel 
Where .ill its richest treasures dwell, 

So ai\ e the needful liirht. 



vno /•■ 

A ml w hen I mix wit li fellow man, 

( ruide .ill my deed • and words thai then 

I i in- wii in ••. s I may beai , 
I li.ii I li v 1 1 in image I may ■I" >w, 
Ami men who love Thee not may know 

I [ow blest Thy < hildi en are, 



109 



PROPS. 

I low beaut iful I he task to lift I he vine 
| H ,i i ising out "i •■•li ill, •ni'l give it stays, 
And cherish n with fresh and loosened soil, 
And ' heei with the watei from the spring, 
Ami prune it timely, and plui k "(I the worms, 
I hat fasten on it • leaf, and keep all i leat 
r oi i he mi oming i rop. Yea, give ii i od i, 
I hat drooping may not kill its voung ambition ; 
A n'l well will ii i epay I hee wii li its fi uit . 
Ami nol alone this task -i lovely one , 
roi nol unlike ii his who gives 1 1 » < - voung 

I he props oi I ruth and Si ieni e, Faith and Hope. 
.' li i bet tei is it that I hesc pi ops be given, 

I' mi i he voung soul it sell to i limb upon, 

'I li.ni tie ii i" i he stake with aftei l houe hi s. 

VVJm li its prone will soon breaks, and soonest breaks, 

I I storm comes round to aid l li< - breakage. Give 
I 1 . ,ii liest i he pi ops to set voung habit i ighl . 



Now be Freedom's flag extended* 

( )'er i he < ont incnt s unfui led, 
I ,ike i he gloi ious day suspended, 

I l'i idgc "I light at i oss l he wot Id. 

i . i ..i , 



Kit, 



i; II ) 1/ /". i MO VEM E v / 



MOTION AND REST. 

A voice came o'ei <>M eh. ids, 
Ami pierced the formless night ; 

Whose whirling waves were hushed to rest ; 
h said, lt I »et there be light." 



I »ight came, .mil next I In- heavens, 

I lie sc.i, l he I. in. I, I he wood , 

The whale, the eagle, <>\, and man ; 
Meanwhile tin- voice, lk All good." 

T he mountains gave t he e< lu>, 

That rolled from lull to lull -, 
until the boundless skies did si-cm 

Willi that glad \ oi< e to thrill. 

Then silence i uled ci eat ion, 

With .MH- glad feeling blest -, 
When came the voice more sweetly grand ; 

li said, ll I et there be rest." 

A son;' came down from Heaven , 

The angelic band was there , 
A nd the i apt spii it ol i he deep 

Sent back the song in |>i ayei . 



And then on -ill ^ )i eat ion 
( )ne lesson w.is impi essed ; 

rhe smile i I ( rod alone < an gi\ e 
1 he wi^i Id's \ ast sou] it *S i est . 



/• I VCU OF SK v 



107 



r.\ ivil OF SKY. 

Throw wide the shuttei , lei the lighl 
ray one moi e visil to tny sight , 
Ere .ill i hing i outwai il yield to night, 
Ami In ing a pati li <>i .1. i . 

A lin le field oi heaven fenced in 

I li.ii in-. ii s no! i In . vv< m hi' . i ea lele is din. 

Bui hope believes i i washed fi sin 

( hie gi cai , < li-.ii , l»i I'hi . blue eye. 



Musi blessed thing i ii bi ings to me, 
A( i oss my life's now lileni bc<i , 
The gushc i ol my infani y, 

I 1 . i e fail Ii vv.i-, dimmed wit l> dusl , 

The dusl ol I hi i va n rati ling woi M j 
Where .ill the elements are whii led, 
I In o' whi el • "ii wheels till I bought is liui lei 
I )cep down in heaps oi i ust • 

( 'ome, i hen, all hough youi sta\ be shot i, 
'I hai pati Ii "i sky shall be my fort , 
Where native I i uth shall hold its < oui t, 
Safe ii .nil invading < aste. 



"■ ime gli is fori tastes I '11 enjoy 

( M woi Ids thai know not sin's alloy , 
A\nd seek, a gladsome, wanjei ing bpy, 
l he beaut ics ol I he past 



l i.ft, iNlil 



L68 



/,•// } ■ m i-:s OF M VEM E \ /' 



COMING AND GOING. 

Pass on, oli Winter world ! 
Thy snow flag is unfurled 

\\ here'er I sir ; 
Thy ti oops, I )ecembei trained, 
I [ave many battles gained 

( )'er bond and free. 

Powerless with thee to cope, 
The day lies shrivelled up, 

I he sun ill <>|>s down ; 
Cut oil is slender shoot, 
Ami flower and leal and fruit 

Away are flown. 

But whrii is done thy worst, 
The last slull come back first 

Ami thou sh.ilt yield ; 
V i< torious then the Spi ing 
To the desolate shall bi ing 

Tin- liviii!!. field. 



Oh God, Thou only just and (me, 

1 low blest ii is to irst in rhee, 
Ami feel I h\ soul renewing dew 
Make all within me blithe and free. 



I' i om day u> day so lei my soul 
(In up to seek thy blessing where 

Thou bidsl the golden gift clouds roll 
Adown theii weight ^( all things fair, 



SPRINQ NOTES. 109 



SPRING NOTES. 



I'lio' chill ai Hist, thy better glance 

Comes o'er me now more kind and arch, 
Now sweet, now shrill, now gay as France, 

Thy voice lias all of change, oh March. 

Blow not my hopes quite all away, 
Nor turn to snow my tears of rain, 

Tho' thy fierce lyre wears out the day, 
Touch softly when he wakes again. 



1801. 



Bird of April, cheerful one, 
Let me have ihy soul of sun ; 

All the morn the fierce wind hlows, 
Thou art playing thy sweet whistle, 
Resting on the rose or thistle, 

But the words bird only knows. 



1801. 






Oh the merry days of college ! 

They are floating hack to me, 

With the Greek and Mathematics, 

And grave Astronomy ; 

The Boarding House and Led;'ei Books, 

And evening walks by running brooks ; 

The views from those familiar hills ; 

The quiet farms below ; 

The good old hell that brought mc back 

The way that I should go ; 

Oh those were good and wholesome times, 

And so I'll can them up in rhymes. 



I7i> ItU YMES OF M<) VEMENT. 

LIGHTING UP. 

\ ( s, kindle the fire, 
Ami wake i he lyre ; 
Take out the ashes and let in the air, 
For thou hast a share 
In all things glorious wherever they arc; 
Just roused from the innocent sleep "l death, 
Pour out the new life in the music ot' breath; 
For i he ft et oJ I )ay near, 

Till the morn is blown here ; 
So put in the kindlings, let the match light them up, 
Then drink the true wine to Peace, Joy, Love and Hope. 



1 1|> bi ight and early, 

Waste not a thought ; 

Glorious day's work 

Now must be wrought. 

Day after Sunday — 

Be it next best, 
Bright be the Monday 

I ust after rest. 



The st ai i \ chandelier still hangs 

Athwart the blue, unclouded sky ; 
Ami ancient history is writ 

In gold upon that tablet high. 
I low very few of mortal deeds 

On others' tongues shall reappear! 
Ami fewest few oi mortal names 

Mav ever reach another sphere. 



SPRING. 



SPUING. 



171 



The Spring, the Spring, is the song I sing, 

For SO sings all the plain ; 
All life is lay, all work is play, 

And I am young again. 



The Spring, the Spring is on the wing, 

All o'er the sapphire sky ; 
The gay young crowd, sunshine and cloud, 

March to a quickstep by. 



The Spring, the Spring ! let forests ring 
With praise to gracious heaven, 

That newer birth to all the earth, 
To all the sky is given ! 



My poor old cloak, my sorry old cloak, 
Every nail seems to owe it a grudge ; 

It's too open hearted for the North wind's ways, 
As down to the office I trudge. 



Uncle Sam's old cloak that hides old sores 

Is being badly torn ; 
His chain patched liberty's a cloak 
I hat he has too long worn. 



172 R1I Y M ES F .1/ VEM EN T. 

MAY. 

Most lovely of Mays, 
Weather beaten no more, 

Oh bring vegetation 

Safe at last to the shore ; 

Oh kindest o( Mays, 

Let me dwell in thy rays. 

Oh merriest May, 
So breezy and warm, 

Be as kind every day 

Thro' sun and thro' storm ; 

Still with thy sweet shine 

A few clouds entwine. 

Oh queenliest May ! 

Bid our country still grow 
Out of all of its failings 

That threaten it so ; 

May its warnings of pain 

Only bring the sweet rain. 
1861. 



Asleep ! asleep ! don't stay asleep, 

When liberty's in danger ; 
With gun in hand and fire in heart, 

Make every fear a stranger. 
And thus will Peace come back again, 

Borne high on War's broad shoulder; 
And those win) sought cold lead will find 

Its consequences colder. 



ii' j /. k TO <> ill a:. m 



WALK TO OFFICE. 



We arc all travelers ; some across the seas, 
Ami some across the- streets ; and hence it is 
To walk some use their feet, and sonic their hands, 
And some their heads, and some heads, hands and feet 
Of other men. These walk indeed on stilts, 
In constant danger of a sudden fall. 
But what the talc the city traveler tells ? 
It tells of 'busses capturing the fair ; 
Of newsboys screaming for their dearest lives ; 
Of splendid coaches plowing through the drays; 
Of smoking mills that crush the daily bread ; 
Of gardens lending fronts to grocery shops ; 
Of vast pork-houses desolate and dull ; 
Of banners starred and striped that bridge the street; 
Of well dressed speculators and fair shows ; 
Of busy groups that fill the tell tale air ; 
Of armies of young children fresh from school ; 
Of military caps and buttons neat ; 
And of the library and the last news ; 
And of the suppressed despairing talk of those 
Who love the onions and the garlic still ; 
The country lost, the poor all out of work ; 
The street packed close with hands employ throws out, 
And dreadful things to come. But here's the place 
Where the worn traveler comes to jot all down, 
And leave all problems to the Future's care. 
June, L861. 

Since one great gift, oh Lord, my God, 
Is mine thro 1 him that died for me; 

I'll not complain, however small 

The lesser gifts that come from Thee. 



174 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

THE FOURTH. 

All day has been a cracking through the town, 

Rattling of bells and thundering of guns, 

The boys the chiefest warriors ; yet the drum 

Has led its larger growth in uniform 

With these war times. The day has been true blue, 

Altho' some sheets of cloud hung up far North, 

That quickly left the coast all clear again. 

What public demonstrations, private calls, 

Dances and dinners, meetings of old friends, 

Have sped the hours, I trow not. Day burnt on 

Till crackling sunset fell upon the West. 

And then the battle of the fire-works came; 

The city hid itself in nests of stars, 

Constant and watchful as the stars above. 

Meanwhile the rockets shot up silver poles, 

And down they came in showers of blue and gold. 

Some traveled in parabolae that sought 

The earth, and some the zenith sought, and there 

Blossomed in flowers of all the hues the bow 

Of God's great promise gives us ; here and there 

The sudden streets were red washed as with flames 

That in a moment faded back to nio;ht. 

The world was one vast choir of music true 

To powder, not yet ripened into war. 

And thus the night wore on till dreamy sleep 

Came round to hush the crackers one by one. 

The bells resumed their sway ; the great town clock 

Soon tolled the burial of another Fourth ; 

And item mongers spilt their ink and slept. 

Cincinnati, 1861. 



PARTING. 175 

FARTING. 

A pleasant season hast thou been to me 
Oh May, thou month especial for the free ; 
For thou escap'st the fetters of the frost, 
Ere the young air its buoyancy has lost ; 
Albeit, thou leavest me with hacking cough, 
And Earth with highways beaten, pinched and rough ; 
Yet cheerful memory opes her bounteous store, 
And the fast press throws out its wealth of lore ; 
While Verdure fills thy lap with eloquent flowers, 
And vines are still wire-drawing thro' the bowers, 
And pretty birds along the fences lark it ; 
And strawberries have found their way to market. 
Thou also bringcst news of arms and battles, 
Past and to come, and possibly freed chattels, 
And soon perhaps new phases of that thing, 
Of yore so interesting we call king ; 
P'ive million sovereigns wide awake to do 
A something for their country good and true ; 
But now farewell ; I'm sorry thou must go, 
Tho' thy successor will surpass thee so 
In height of stature and in depth of hue ; 
Young June is scarce as joyous or as true. 
May 31, 1862. 



Sweet morning in June, that goest so soon, 
Let me live the true life while thou're here ; 

Oh let me not lose the breath of thy dews, 
For 'twill cling to my heart the whole year. 



176 nir YM E S F M V E M E N T. 

WATCH! WATCH! 

Watch, watch, when danger is near ; 

Hope calmly and ever be ready ; 

Act firmly with hand ever steady ; 
Seeing all round you is never to fear. 

Watch, watch, in the hour of defeat, 

Moments will ripen when Right may prevail j 
Then you may scatter effectual hail, 

Winning by conquest or skillful retreat. 

Watch, watch, in the hour of despair ; 

Rage may weary the giant to rest ; 

Mind you the Key deep down in your breast, 
Night Key of promise ; 'tis ever hid there. 

Watch, watch, in every hour ; 

They and they only are sure to be free, — 
They who far off and far round them can see 

Stealthy feet of usurping power. 



Oh merry, merry May, 
All the out-look bids us pray ; 
'Tis too much, the merely joyful, 
When the world is all decoyful ; 
But with aims right, 
And with eyes bright, 
So the danger we may see 
Clearly through the truest glee, 
All thy cheer may timely be. 



REVOLUTION. 177 



REVOLUTION. 



All Nature doth in revolutions move, 

From the minutest clover grain that seeks 

A home on the torn soil, up to the Sun 

That goes — the great clock of the Universe. 

By him kind Nature times her visitings 

To seas and soil, providing for her sons. 

And Governments are Revolutions too, 

Affecting rather cometary paths 

Than planetary orbits. So there are 

In fashion, science, worship, language, art, 

Great Revolutions ; some times bringing out 

In turn humanity's best attributes, 

And some times, too, its worst. Doth not the soil 

Wear out its older stems, while newer ones 

Come in their places with renewed forms ? 

And so with mind's slow marches, it must fare ; 

The outspread conquering wings from earnest times, 

Have shadowed earth ; the royal bird of prey 

Long made the world its victim ; nor hath Time 

Nor true Religion clipped as yet its wings. 

The Roman Eagle preyed on nations till, 

Glutted, it sickened, but died not. It lives 

In the weak skeleton around which hang 

The muscles of our modern warfare ; yea, 

Time and again it comes to life, and dire 

Red revolutions follow in its wake. 

And yet it hath its bright hues seen of all ; 

Its wings are Freedom's movements swift and high ; 

Its paths of thought are bold and promptly trod ; 

Wrought out of bird's eye outlooks o'er the world. 

So far the Roman Ea^le of the old. 



[78 



/; ill' Ml •' i ■'' '/ /■ V /' 



So in the Vmei i< an E igle ol the new. 
Rome i mli il '''I 6'ei i hi ec coiuinentSj 
Columbia yei must radiate o'ei the globe. 
Freedom foi few controlled the 1 1 on State) 
Freedom i>>i .ill must nerve the golden wings. 
Bui \ el i feai iul contest lies in wait 
Foi the great bird ol progress , .ill tin- fierce 
Ami foul that hovel round old Slavery's corse 
Shall throw theii beaks againsl Ins iimisi.uk breast — 

Tin- breast oi Right, heaven plated. lull of\ wrons 
Maj seem supreme, and yei the stern old Night 
Shall slowl) yield Ins empire unto Day. 
, * r.i, and the bannei from the earliesl feared, 
Even to terror, shall cast down the wrong 

Fliat peeled and scattered nations j and shall bri 
( )ui from the stocks the lame to walk with God. 

Pobi Uftpy, LSI) 



A \ oi< e ii on) the East, 
A nil .1 \ oice ii om t he West, 
[n\ iting to the feast 
Where battle w as the guest . 
\ \ oit v- from the Noi i \\ 
\ lei i v oice from the South, 
Bounding dow n the Mississippi 
I i om i he sou i ce to the mouth ; 
\ ihI the bells i ang alai m 
I \> i he i. u thest pi .in ie fai m, 

rhat the question must be settled by pike and bj gun, 
• - \ t wc one 



r i: ii i ;// / , u ro . 



n\> 



OUR WASHINGTON. 

Noi .ill to lave oui Waihington, bul give il iti full 

thai <• , 
There are interests in thi mighty West, thai well deserve 

youi can , 
Tn make the people iafe is yours, the nation's Keys wln» 

hold , 
I'm the nation's in the peoples heart) and no) in placi 01 

gold. 



Noi .ill to i ' ''in Washington, and th< offio holdei i 

ill- re , 
'l he sovereigns too wani bod) guards, ol sui i> as i ou i an 

span , 
I hen send them to secure oui farms, out shops and itorci 

and homi i , 
We'll try and keep the lads well mailed, foi thi battle 

wli'n ii ( omeii 



Ami don'l forge! oui Switzerland, where the meeting 

mountain i < owei , 
Foi i he masses • hi r< are men again , and noi < hi tools ol 

powi i , 
li. then w< li find the help we want, where profit eats 

noi soul, 
Oui "i the mire th< good old wheels oi government to 

roll. 



isi) R n y M rs OF MO VEM US T. 

DIM DAY. 

Dim day tli.it with th\ smoky train, 
I In music wind and clinking toil, 

Ait rolling down the Western skies 
To ease the tired world of its moil; 

' lis very well that thou art gone, 

For Dew is wanted more than Sun, 

( }o cai i v all thy smokes to rest ; 

They must be tired of fire, their sire; 
We know that smoke won't s(a\ below, 

, But will In- alwaj s aiming highej , 
Tho' failing oft. E'en now they rain 

1 Inn chai ( oal on our roofs again. 

A ml as the ambitious of the town 
May help Society's best needs, 

When then high amis are well bro't downs 
Thy smokes, chat sow so wide their seeds, 

Will ripen, thro' the help of leaves, 

The apples that o'erhang our eaves. 

June L5. LSC2 



I une brings the breeze musicians to the sky ; 

Their pipes grow lively as the sun goes home; 

They rock the cradles of the infant plants, 
And sing to them with merry lullabies; 
Until the new grown world, all ripe, doth throng 
The broad hint tables set tor all mankind. 



TO THE SUN. 181 

TO THE SUN. 

Oh blessed Sun, alt ho' thy heat 

Stirs up my head to angry pain, 
Thou thus dost only bid me rest, 

And lay aside the bone for brain. 

'Tis thou hast built this leafy bower 

That calls me to its gentle airs, 
And bids me yield my present toil 

To thought on Summer's vast affairs. 

For now the bread of all the race 
Is gently steaming from the ground ; 

The incense of Earth's prayer that bread 
From heaven may soon by all be found. 
June, L862. 



Firmest muscles, quickest nerves! 
You the country feeds and serves ; 
Let the bayonet be your plow ; 
Open virtue's soil up now. 
Ardent souls that burn for fame, 
Write upon the flag your name ; 
Hi isk and early shoulder gun ; 
Onward march till victory's won. 
Young hearts, all alive to Truth, 
Oive the mother land your youth ; 
Fist her call, to rescue run, 
Ye must do or be undone. 



182 R // r.i//:.v OF MO VEM ENT. 

Till-: TIMES. 

The language oi the times, oh read ye not? 

The Sun diops out of sight in fields of blood ; 

The frowning blue empurpled, curtains off 

Tin' temple of his rest. Across tin- sky 

The mists hang black and towering; fiercely hot 

11. nil been the day ; the air itself half dead, 

The sky one mighty oven, baking brains, 

Not bread foi the vast citj heaped below. 

Al.is when disagreements grow so fierce 

That brotherhood shakes only bloods hands! 

But Truth must have its course, and Right its way, 

Ami Love its sphere beyond all brotherhoods; 

The Truth, the Right, the Love that brook no crime, 

But join to wipe oppression from the earth. 

God send us peace, a genuine, binding peace; 

'That shall cement our States in one vast wall, 

A huge Gibraltar 'gainst oppression's host. 

Save us, oh Clou 1 , oh save us, when we fight 

'Gainst Slavery's bitter rule, from that dread curse, 

The poison it has scattered through our ranks ; 

Save us from pride unsatisfied, ami lust, 

Ami sloth, ami fraud, ami all the snaky ways 
Bj which the Devil steals into our hearts; 

Save us from party craft ami all its arts •, 

From speculations in the People's lights; 

From overruling inequality ; 

From all the OKI World code of murderous ills, 

Which rob our God of worship, man of love J 

Ami save all nations as ours would he saved, 

Till Might ami Right > h a 1 1 every where he one. 
Boptembor I. L862. 



Mo UN. is:; 



IUOKN. 



Mosl lovely morn, thai after rain, 
I )ost In ing us gentle skies again, 
Bring with thee too life's bettei part, 
Unclouded mind and grateful heai I . 

Thai every morning I may raise, 

\\y deed or word, some note <>l praise 
To Him who sends both rain and shine 
I oi evei y shoot ol ( !hi ist the vine. 



( ) ( Jod, I thank thee for the morning light 
And evening dew, and foi the pleasani fruits 
Ihai make a thing of joy my daily bread; 
But mosl I thank Thee foi the bread oi life, 
The staff oi soul life, which is trust in Thee. 

Oh ii is bliss itself to know thai Thou 
Ai I eV( i near when I am all alone ; 

I hai e'en thy strength, thai seen would terrify 
All thought, Thou usesl with an arm ol love j 
For Thou, Almighty, art Almighty Love. 
Yea, Father,! hou has! all a mother's love, 
Rocking the cradle of the Universe. 
'I hen let me lose mysell to find oul Thee I 

So will my little cares be drowned in joy ; 

Oh wash my sins out in the i rystal fount, 

That so I die tO earth from day to day, 

( Hiding away into i he Infinite. 



ISf.2 



lsi 1; n y .1/ /;\ OF Mo I EM E S F 



THE ALARM. 

Composed at tha dawn of one of tho mornings when the Rebels were throat 
ening Cincinnati from the Kentuokj Ide; the Aral lines of the stomas Intended 
to imitate the alternate signals ol the bolls trllcingal thai time, 

•Ding dong, ilins 1 , il<>n<;, iling dong, 
Tin- dawn breaks <>ut in s>>n:', , 

Aw.ikc, awake, awake ' 

And sec the i\ rants »|u.ikc- , 
Foi Freedom's guns an- in ing, 
Ami tin- world night is retiring, 



Awake, aw ake, awake I 



Clang, ( lang, clang ! 
The very heavens hang 

W'nh the red, white and blue ; 

Then awake, awake and view 
i >ui good old fathers fighting, 
rhe New World's wrongs a righting) 

fhe strong, the pure, the true. 



Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, 
The young day groweth strong ; 

Awake, awake, awake ! 

Thine own us gold to make I 
The pioneei , until ing, 
With Freedom's soul inspiring, 

\ new West slull awake, 



I'll I : .1 LA /. .!/. 

( Hang, clang, clang ! 

The orange sky shall hang 
["he 01 ange South all through 
With the old red, white and blue ; 

Foi the stars and stripes untiring, 

Shall wave o'er legions firing, 
Till all are one anew. 



Ding dong, cling dong, ding dong ! 
Right triumphs over wrong ; 
Awake, awake, awake ! 

Awake and see the sun 
That tells us we are one ; 
( )ui fathei s' glory firing 
Our hearts, and ne'er expiring, 
'1 he Earth itseli may wake. 



'Tis beautiful, the sunny soul, 

I pon a sunny day ; 

More beauteous still the sunny soul, 
When clouds obsi ure the way. 



Bui all these mists thai hang ai ound 
'I his pi ison house oi < lay, 

Are bul t he gauze i hro' whit h -.-. 
I he dawn oi endless day. 






1. 1. 



II // i 1/ /■•. 01 Ma r KM /■ \ l\ 



'II I Is WIND. 

A white iheel wraps the black browed earth j 
i in boundleii blue htm one gi eai <\ e , 

I hi 81 illin ■■••. "I ( he wrrli \ new l>n i h 

I', elociueni I hi ouu houl I he ~-\- j , 
bn\ i- hei e •mil there .i quivei iug I en I , 

bftve ii' >w ni'l i in ii n tremulous bell. 
I In- world in hush as deepest grief. 

( >i joj i"" full foi words i" tell. 
Qui now -i low ' omplnining w ind 

l . in. i.i in IP- .n i he unopened Joor. 
In tones i ■ i lull us * li'-n , i "lil iiiniil, 

( >i w .i.i i ■. .mil w oes urn "lil befoi e 
A i.i-. in! i .n s "ii ■ now i lad plains I 

A i.i'. I. 'i i amps "ii ' 1 " • en hills ' 
a i.r. foi brave nun sunk in i hains ' 

\v i mi c wani "i ii osi "i fe\ ei kill.. 

( )|l willil I ll.K Jul Ii u. Ii SOI I ' IW bl Hi!', 

I o mingle with oui cup ol < iii 1 1 . 
Oui lAi hei heai s 1 1'\ h uel wing . 
A nil bids his mei i \ '•• ami appeal ■ 



.1:11111111 ) It), ISO ■ 



( ^\\ stai •• ' \ "in gloi ious > ompam I seek , 

M \ i .ipii.il will I ui\ i". i in \ .mi , 

'S c .ii r i he golden coin in Mai ui e s \ .mlt, 

Be) "nil i l\r mi i.i si upendous foi ce oi ii aud , 

Wnw issues -ill > i eai ion tak< ■ nl pai . 

Youi Maker's name impressed upon them Btil 



// I i> <> \ 187 



l<H,l> ON. 



I [old OH, oil my ( otinli y, 

W'nli ii -»ii glovi 'I hand, 

I ill i . <li aggi 'I down i hi idol 

I h.ii (I. ii kens oui land< 

I I'llil nil lo I )|y pin p( , . 
Wil h |]ei |i li.il in;' | \ > , 

' '< nil'- weal "i imiih vv'H- i ill 
Reb< llion hall dii 

I l<ilil <>n like i he •' ipi ing who 

\ V' 1 1 1 1 w 1 1 1 1 r I i Ontl 1 1 ' I 

Ami ,n ivca nil ill' gn ii ( Jod 
I he vn ioi y ii i ■• l , 

Hold on like t hi Sun whom 
I he mountain mists 1 1 owd . 

VVlii. ihool i .ill « round him. 
'I ill ii atti i ■ tin i loud. 

I [old on to l [opi ' . am hoi 
Till I hy tn ad • on Nighi , 

Hold on nil Mighi I" ai i to 
'l hi g r ea I hi in i • I I ' i i ■ 1 1 1 

I lold ',n I,, i he sai i r -I trull 

Garnered with I h ee , 
I [old on till the Earth m 1 1 

I Ik Oni can bi frc< 

I [old on and ni ei hold up, 

I ill i hy woi |< ii w II done , 
And the Woi Id iou! al las) ' now . 
ih' I i" can bi one. 



188 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

THE OLD ELM. 

Within the gay and brilliant park 
There stands a trunk of elm, 

The revolutions of the times 
Have failed to overwhelm. 

Its mighty chest is three feet wide, 

And on its dingy bark, 
The flues of all the city seem 

T'have left a century's mark. 

Long years ago, how fair and tall 
And branching wide it rose ! 

But now not e'en a random twig 
From its broad bosom grows. 

Why stands it there a monument 
Of what the past hath been, 

Rut as foreshadowing what will come 
To all these crowds of men ! 

There's now and then an aged man 

As bare of all his past ; 
A skeleton of manliness 

On Being's sand bank cast. 

All shorn and rough, worn out perchance 

In Freedom's noble cause ; 

Oh give him honor less for what 

He is, than what he was. 
June 2f>, 1863. 



SABBATH DA WN. 189 



SABBATH DAWN. 



Rejoicing leaves look glad at thee, 
Oh Sabbath of my soul ! 

May Jesus now 'neath every roof 
Each broken heart make whole. 



The hills all round the city walls, 
Their blue coats striped with red ; 

The soldiers stationed round the tomb 
Of Day, that late was dead ; 



Now testify that thou art risen, 
Like Him thou bring'st to mind, 

Who came day clad from higher heaven, 
To lift up human kind. 



To lift up man from out the dust, 
A branch that climbs the skies ; 

lie-hold the very walls are glad 
For Him who never dies ! 



Then thro' the hearts they shelter all 
Let the glad tidings run, 

One thrill of praise to God that He 
For us the day has won. 

May. 181 



190 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

DROUGHT. 

Fell Drought, why comest thou in times like these, 
When War's red foot ensanguines every plain, 
And Famine treads upon the battle's heels ? 
We tire of these long visits of the sun, 
For fear of whom the seeds lie still in earth, 
Lest their frail stems be slaughtered by the noon. 
Why parch the corn before it turns to grain ? 
E'en Spring is turning gray beneath thy touch. 
Go to the rebel rivers that have risen, 
And robbed the farmers of their homes and heaps ! 
Redeem the marshes and break down the storms 
That break down all the muniments of man. 
Why linger here when myriads crowd the street ? 
The city's black enough without thy smoke ; 
If thou must be destroyer, why not now 
Go to the lime-kiln ; burn old Babylon, 
And dry up races that would starve the free ; 
And put to rout the insects that would cheat 
Summer of green, and Autumn of her fruit. 

Juno 1(5, 1863. 



We have taken the cars for war, but whither are we going; ? 

Down the stream of Time, like a fury flowing, 

Going down to better times, or to worse and worse, 

Conquering a blessing, or conquering a curse ? 

God alone, who made the soul, and made it to be free ; 

God alone, who built the stars, can tell our destiny. 



SHINE AND RAIN. 191 

SHINE AND HAIN. 

Oh lovely shine, most glorious thing 
That o'er Creation walks abroad ; 

The greatest of thy glories is, 

Thou never ceasest praising God. 

Oh lovely rain, most glorious next 
To shine, of all that walk abroad, 

The richest bounty thou dost bring 
Is heart to praise and worship God. 

Oh human soul, most glorious thing, 
On which God's spiiit sheds abroad 

His Shine and Rain, Thy glory is 
To praise and worship only God. 

July 18, 1SC3. 



Toll, toll the bells, 

So plaintively and long, 

At three o'clock in the morning. 

To rouse the quick and strong ; 

Up boys and out ; 

If you rise at break of day, 

Though your foes are all about, 

You may chase them all away ; 

With tones high and low, 

Where the mighty masses flow, 

Till Freedom see fair weather, 

Toll the bells together. 
September I ; ■ ■ 



192 B II Y M E S F M I ' E .1/ E S T. 

HOPE. 

The spirit runs upon its road, 

Beneath the banner of its God ; 

The burden of its earthly strife 

Is light on Hope's refreshing life ; 

And sharpest pains are trained to be 

The very food of ecstacy. 

Behold the laborer in the field, 

Who toils that summer's heat may yield ; 

But while he labors to be fed, 

His prayers go up for heavenly bread ; 

He prays in hope, and as he calls, 

The manna round bis pathway falls. 

The student searches thro' the past ; 

His moments fly bow sweet and fast ! 

For 'tis a thing that hastens time, 

The flowery crags of thought to climb ; 

He toils In hope to gather truth 

That makes of love immortal youth. 

The Christian's hope ! oh who Can tell 

How blest are they whose visions dwell 

Beyond this world of moonless night, 

Away in worlds of ceaseless light ! 

But far from hero's farthest thought 

Perchance be sees bis future lot ; 

And higher than the poet's wing, 

The flight toward bis deathless King; 

And constant as he upward flies, 

New realms of thought may chain his eyes; 

And sweeter tones enchant his ear, 

Fresh from the minstrels of the sphere. 

And all this breadth of boundless scope 

Is in the range of Christian Hope. 



BEGINNING AND ENDING. 193 

BEGINNING AND ENDING. 

JANUARY, 1861. 

The West wind comes with icy fingers 

And stiffens the work of the rain ; 
Tho' the sun comes out, we all hurry in 

To the crowded rooms again ; 
When the hopes of our people are bitterlv crost, 
'Tis time that the earth should be plated with frost. 



They haste through the streets with hands in pocket, 
Pulling their low crowns over their eyes ; 

Or gathering cloaks around their ears, 

While the stars like icicles hang o'er the skies ; 

The great business world coming fast to a stand, 

For nobody knows what's to come o'er our land. 

MAY, 1865. 

The South wind comes with gentle fingers, 

Completing the work of the rain ; 
And the sun comes in, and we all hurry out 

From the crowded rooms again ; 
Now the hopes of our people at last come true, 
'Tis time that the earth were glowing with dew. 



As sure as the day spring comes out of the night, 
The things that are hidden shall at last come to light ; 
Then let us be instant in doing the right, 
Since with the Almighty all things are in sight. 

M7) 



194 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

UNION. 

Many creeds and many callings, 
One in purpose, one great mart ; 

Many minds and many wishes, 
One in freedom, one in heart. 



Many hopes and many strivings, 
One in danger, one in fame ; 

Many States and many homesteads, 
One great soul and one great name. 



We shout, we roll, all full of soul, 
Thro' most transporting scenes ; 

Richer than city's silks and shows, 
And the country's brightest greens. 



We hreakfast on the morning breeze 
We dine on breath of flowers ; 

We sup from golden plates set out 
By sunset's pensive houri's. 



As we abound, we'll throw around 
What's given from on high ; 

So as we glide and roll and sing, 
We'll live until we die. 

July, 1863. 



EMPTY WISHES. 195 



EMPTY WISHES. 



Howc'cr the outside seemeth 
Proud of its power and riches, 

Deep in th' inside are hidden 
All sorts of empty wishes. 



Wilt Thou, oh Lord, take pity, 

And these fierce wants to kill, 
Give us in ample measure 
.The will to do Thy will. 



Oh Lord, how true Thy judgments are, 
How just are all Thy ways ! 

The wrath of man these troublous times 
To Thee its tribute pays. 



So let oppression's fury give 

The suicidal blow ; 
And to the thirsty chain-bound souls 

Let streams of Freedom flow. 



Away, away, far, far away 
Be the man drovers driven ; 

And make the earth a depot whence 
The cars may run to heaven. 

July 27, 18G3. 



196 Rll Y MEs OF MO VEMENT. 

SNOW. 

The wide, wide sheet 

Is over all the plain ; 

For the dead old year 

Will never rise again. 

But the ruddy dawn comes 

From the black browed hill, 

With the happy young year 

The world's heart to thrill. 

Then the snow, the snow, the blushing bright snow, 

Is Nature's glad face with beauty all aglow ; 

The bells ringing wild in their joy ; 

Mid the merry sleigh riders 

And the gay, gay sliders, 

The man gliding back to the boy. 



Yet where is the rose 
That kindled by the door? 
Say not " It is gone, 
u To cheer us never more ! " 
For a brighter rose burns 
Than ever warmed the earth, 
Where glad hearts abound, 
On the music loving hearth ; 

While the snow, the snow, the merry, merry snow, 
So slantingly will go, in its ("airy winged How 
To wrap the tired earth for her rest ; 
And kind feet arc- gliding 
Where pale want is biding, 
That all the new world may be blest. 



SNO W. 107 

Bui alas for the fallen 

< )n i he blood d) ed snow, 

Who lit . speni hi i la .1 * 1 1 < >p 

To quell the nation's foe ! 

Beneath the frozen trees, 

Tin: pale, stern sky ; 

No mothei 's gentle hand 

To close the dying eye ! 

But the snow, the snow, the pi 1 y melting snow, 

With a grateful Country's tears in sympathy will (low; 
The drums beating wild in their sorrow -, 
While the hero have, behind 
Freedom for his kind, 

And the earth shouts lor joy on the morrow! 
83 



Oh life, thou art a weary load to those 

To whom the means of living an- denied. 
I'ooi, s'u k I v flames, that burn without the <<il ; 
Ton, withered stems thai have no nursing leaves; 

Oh (rush not mind and heart with over toil, 

;;.,[ give to honest labor joy in rest. 

Tod unremitted 1 , 1 he drought ol soul. 
Ala, ! when all joy's rivers have run dry! 

When Sun becomes the very chief of foes, 

And Storm is welcomed as the only friend! 

'I hen wonder not the skies have sombre brows, 
e hopefully the wan ing < loud , an- hailed ; 

Oh that the (loud, of War would tain down Tea''-. 



198 11 11 YM E S OF MOV E M E X T. 

TEN O'CLOCK P. M. 

Old Ten is pouring his stream of sound 

Out on the moon-lit air ; 
As the past and the future roll up to our ken, 

He roars, and he dies, old Ten. 

Old Ten the ghosts of departed hours 
Doth raise to our awe-struck eyes ; 

To warn us that murdered time shall yet 
In judgment against us rise. 

Old Ten rings up the deeds of the day, 
Stern conscience's brow to meet ; 

And bids us haste with broken hearts 
Up to the mercy seat. 

OKI Ten is pouring his stream of sound 

Out on the moon-lit air ; 
He is roaring like lion out of his den ; 

lie roars and he dies, old Ten. 
1865, 



One more song, my native land ; 
Ere I enter action's strand. 
Me whate\ er may befall, 
May'st thou live on^ loved by all, 
Feared bv every power of earth ; 
Nations yet will owe thee birth. 
But if thou would'st live long hence, 
Keep thy heart with diligence. 



J>A ) . 190 



DAY. 



Day raises steam ; his train is ready now ; 

His cars, most cheerily do thev move, because 

The wheels on which they roll were made in heaven. 

Now opens commerce 'tween the earth and sky, 

And all the air is glad, and all the train. 

The future sends its youth into our nerves, 

Beauty revisits our wide open eyes ; 

J /ovc whispers holy thoughts into our cars, 

Distilling notes of" praise its wires have brought 

From some lost soul new found, as we our toils 

Push forward to the depot of the night. 

Now, too, the City smiles •, and Labor looks 

Up from Lis spade and loom and hod and axe, 

Joyous, upon the ascending of the Sun, 

An old friend back from traveling round the Earth. 

Even ilie far off drum beat is impressed 

With new and cheering tones ; and Distance comes 

To company with Nearness ; so new friends 

From all Creation hasten here with Day. 

i 62. 







One thought and one purpose from hence let there be, 
One rush of life's Mood from a heart flowing free; 
A single eye piercing, yet steady and calm ; 
Once more at the foe till no more can he harm ; 
On Gad, who loves Right, let thy right arm repose; 
Let faith and clear vision thy courage enclose ; 
Then upward and onward and outward until 

Great victory the pulse of a nation shall fill. 
September, i r,i. 



900 R // V MES OF UQVEMEX /'. 

GLACIERS, 

All o'er the realm on which now falls 

i lolumbia's temperate do 
rhe gla< m ■ stood, \ asi hosts »>i lulls, 

W uli theii pi ismatic hues. 

Great icebergs 'neath the mountain in-.iks 
Reared up theii sunset spires, 

Built >'t the tumbling i< e i o< ks there, 
l 'hat fell Sol's > omino fires 



A thousand veai s the dim old sun. 

Fed by no mcteoi thei e, 
1 l.ul shot awaj lus light and heat, 

\ nil had ii" rnoi c to spai e« 

But suddenly \ .ist .n mies neared, 

Swiftei than praii ie flame , 
Sent by the l ' ni\ ei se to meet 
rhe ii ec ■ ing sj stem's i laim. 

rhen -ill at once, 'twas crash, crash, crash, 

l 'he w oi Id split up in blocks ; 
rhe sliding, whii ling millstones ground 

l\> finest dust the rocks, 

Ami long (Ins vast mill was at work, 

1 i e the last glaciei gone ; 
Save those that hung around the poles, 

Aiul i ound each alpine ( one. 



GLACIERS. 201 

The sea was bright with golden rafts 

And gay vermillion lulls ; 
Meanwhile the tearful earth sent down 

The armies of her rills. 



At last the fiery sun had made 

A conquest of the plain ; 
A mighty angel rode the winds 

To sow the grass and grain. 

And then went up from ocean's breast 

The gentle, blushing showi 
Till Thunder roared in Winter's ear, 
" Make way for Spring and flowers." 

No more the ghastly ice rocks piled 

Alike the land and sea ; 
Save a lew white caps left, Earth seemed 

( l\ ecu io infinity. 

1871. 



Louder! oh bells; the hours are warm ; 
Bring in or drive away the storm, 
And bring us truth, and bring us peace; 
And bid the brother slaughterers era ,.- ; 
Bui as i hej - - a e, oh let the truth 
Bring bai k oui i ounti y to its youth ; 
And i-ie they cease, may War's hoi coal 
Burn out the poison from I he soul ' 



nil Y 1/ ES OF MO VEM ENT 

OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN. 

Our Father in heaven, our best Friend on earth, 
Could we see in each moment thy kindness ; 

How richly would gratitude gladden the hearts 
That now are so stricken with blindness ! 



Thou source of all beauty, Thy wisdom and love 

O'erflow the vast plains of creation; 
Could we view Thee below as they view Thee above, 

All life were a son<>; of salvation. 



Since the true morn has wakened and mountain and wave 

Have listened to Calvary's story; 
Oh wonder of wonders! earth echoes Thy praise, 

And the heavens but add to Thy glory. 

Yet Father, rebellion still clings to his throne; 

Oh wash rebel hearts in the fountain, » 

Till all elimes are kneeling at Thy name alone, 

And the earth is Thine own holy mountain. 



Would thou had'st news as glorious as thee, 

Oh day of broad, bright sun and cloudless skies, 
With worlds of toilers 'neath thee, gay and free, 
And steams ot art and power that constant rise J 

Still lift thy vapors till rebellions cease, 

And \\ ar"s ill cad thunder brings the song of Peace. 

I ■ ISO!! 



LOOK UJ'. 203 



LOOK UI\ 



Where shall wc seek for words, 
To express thy care that girds 

Our lives about with blessing? 
Oh God, it needs Thy thought, 
To reach what thou hast wrought 

With adequate expressing. 

But each day nearer Thee, 
Thy character to see 

Thou bid'st us come ; 
Will Thou Thy spirit send, 
T'o lead us by the hand 

And bring us home ! 



Blow on, fierce March, and onward march ye winds, 
And drive the chilling rebeldom from hence. 
Yes, we are marching to the terrible guns, 
That soon shall settle Freedom's native right. 
Come down ye hills, lift up your heads, oh vales ; 
(jive up your oaks, oh Wood, your rocks, oh Earth ; 
Take the long bridges on your backs, ye streams j 
Lay down your rails, oh Art, and let the car 
Of heaven born Liberty the depot seek ; 
And take the Bible with thee, golden car, 
Not the rich volume merely, but its truths 
Writ on the hearts of Christ devoted men. 

18G3. 



•.■hi /• ;/ Y m KS OF 1/01 ■/'!//■ \ /'. 

OPENING Dl». 

The night is dead, but the mom is mourning 

( )vei the woi k >u the rain ; 
Black are the roofs and leaden the forest, 

Aiul wet is the well housed grain •, 
The sharp teeth ol the falling shot 

1 lave bored the shingles again, 

Blacker the streaks on the wall within, 

Blacker the trees without ; 
Only the pearls on the twigs to show 

That light is not drowned out ; 
So one might think from all he sees 

I'h.it da) had been put to rout. 

Yet the green leaps up on the willows there, 

And the flags .11 v- unfui ling here ; 
Ami the gooseberry, aimed with a host of spears, 

Will fight foi life, 'tis cleat ; 
And the pee wee's note, and the- shrill voiced wind 

Tell us that Spi ing is neat . 



I\l\ > ounti v, oh my country ! 

'lis now J uly with thee ; 

The eartn's July that fiercely warms, 
1 lu- sky's July ol clouds and storms, 
The fui ions, \ et the i 



1871. 



00 VEJS .1 A T MEETING. 205 

COVENANT MEETING. 

Solemn and sweet is the covenant meeting, 
When soul meets soul in heavenly greeting; 
And the spirit's phenomena, ri< h and rare, 
Seem like the shows of a heavenly fair. 

Will it not lighten our toils, my orother, 

To speak of our sorrows and joys as we wait, 

And pray and strive to help each other, 

In the strength of God, toward the golden gate? 

Life and faith and hope and feeling, 
The flow "I Pasl into Future, revealing 
The hearth-fire of hearts all linked together, 
To keep us alive in the world's cold weather ! 

Bound by a covenant writ with His blood, 
Who hath promised us here the Spirit's greeting, 
Let us walk together until our God 
Shall bring all His own to the Covenant Meeting. 



Stand up, oh my country, and never despond ; 
If the present glooms darkly, the more look beyond j 
'lime enough there is coming thy glory to see, 
If thou will) thy whole soul art striving to be. 
Oil say, (lid Defeat never know of thy past? 
Did Victory meet thee less surely at last ? 
I hen all thro' the dark days resist thou despair, 
And the how of God's promise thy future shall wear. 



206 /.'// Y M ES OF .i/(M' EM EN /'. 

SUNG AT A WEDDING CENTENNIAL. 

Our Father's God, we praise I In name, 
That I hou has sent a gol len chain 

To bind the future and the past, 

Ami make one brichl soul oui oi twain. 



Si> manhood's truth and woman's trust 
Yield newer victors for the crown j 

So through the long reach of the \r.ns, 
Lite, love ami truth are handed down. 



We thank. Thee lor tin- freedom sought 
Ami gained one hundred years agone, 

When she and he, whose wedding day 
We celebrate, were first made one, 



Foi -ill the hours of chastened mirth, 
For all the days of sorrow cheered ; 

Foi gentle cares, for hero toils, 

\ml all things by love's truth endeared 



I low mam to that union owe 

Their wealth ol soul, theii joy to In- 1 
Most glorious, ii love's chain hath led 
To union oi the soul with Thee I 

i- 70. 



FIIIBNDS. 207 



FRIENDS. 



Ye stars that have befriended me so long, 

Answer me with your deep, gentle eyes ; 
Ye thai have lived so many lives, how strong! 

Ye that have seen SO many vvoilds, how wise I 

( Jive me above tins < layey life to rise ; 

Oh for the magnetic power that speeds your beams, 

( )r just enough to lift love to the skies ' 
Give me realities, not empty dreams; 
Something that hath a soul, whate'er its outer seems. 

Xcll me some truth, oh stars, some living truth ; 

Something that writes its name upon the heart ; 
And gives back to Earth's wanderer his youth, 
llis youth ere cheapened in the vain world's mart; 
Ye are the pit turc gallci ies ol true Art, 

The wondrous art ol Being, ( )h blest stars ! 

Jn thin* can we, the earth horn, gain no part? 

If wc must wait till soul bursts through its bars, 

At Death's vast depot waits for us no star bound ears ? 

i ,i 



Oh for a comfortable snooze of thought, 
A joy that in the market can't be bought; 
The true rich life anion;- the fields of soul, — 
Bringing the scraps <>f feeding into whole; 
This is the healthful, the overflowing bowl, 

Oh give me this, and you may keep the money ; 
'Tis Nature fill I the I up that makes me sunny. 



June 



208 i: U I'M i:s o !■ mo \ EMEU /'. 

SHELLING. 

Shelling, shelling, not with windlass. 

Grinding out the golden coi n, 
But with patient hand and shovel, 

Noisy scraping .ill the morn ; 
Separating 

Mother cob from all her hoin. 



How the luiU" yellows cling to 

Her red breast since first the silk 
1 [ung out .it the en's extremes^ 

W'Uile they led on mother's milk ' 

New creating 
Golden grains of self same ilk. 



See ! the fruit unto its bearer 

Nature binds with Nature's noose! 
So the things of yOUth ami beauty 
GrOW to he the things of use; 

No more waiting 
Need be now to break them loose. 



They are wanted — all these kernels, 

With the oil of peace so rife, 
Ground by living teeth or millstone, 
All i he gauntlet i un ol strife ; 
Educating 

Us to keep the woi hi in life, 

i . o 



THE HE A TIT. 



TIIK IIKAKT. 



I he human heai I , a geni le i ill 
Thai iih kles down the mountain side. 

It swedly wanders at its will, 

Until it swells the o< can's tide. 
I low like the ray ol hope divine, 

TIk- glani -• ii "i'. e the moi ning sky ! 
Bui passion's noon too hoi may shine, 

And leave its rock-worn channel dry. 



• 
The human heai l , a sigh, a tone 

Sod breathing from a hai p 01 lute, 
Or speaking from I he eye alone, 

Ii g deep, ii i loquem e i i mute. 
But now it wakes the patriot's ire, 

The pot i tou< hes all its ipi inj 
Ii nobly wraps itseli in (ire, 

As ii the lightning woke its strings. 



The human heai t, an azure sky 

1 1 ung i ound with stai i y flowei s above, 

Or one id ighi .mi i . s< eptred hfgh 
And melts to univei >al love, 

Bui now the wan ior tcmpe il 3 roll 
Theii blacl 10s o'ci its even ; 

Yt l fla ihings from the midnight soul 
ill i how '■ Hci "ii. 



210 Till YMES OF MO VEMENT. 

I he human heart, its path is long, 

Its home is hid behind the star; 
Its highest, deepest strains belong 

To choirs of light in realms afar. 
The human heart, 'twill soon be o'er — 

The struggle that will snap its chain, 
Then upward will the eagle soar, 

To dwell in primal light again. 



RIPENING. 

'Tis early in the moi ning, 

And the sun's eye still is clear ; 
• But the leaves die round the car 

That dries up in its corning. 
'Tis early in the morning, 

I hear the dews yet tail ; 
The o-cntle dews that call 

On the plants to ripen all, 
In mildest tones of warning. 

To the day 'tis early morning, 
But 'tis evening to the year ; 

Since frost is very neai . 
Oh ear, 'twill cost thee dear 

A moment to he scorning. 
s. ptember, 1869, 



The car of day is on its way . 

The track is smooth and bright ; 
Hurra, hurra, for the Hying train, 

Beneath a sky so white. 



END OF THE DRO I' TU. 211 

END OF THE DROUTH. 

Fell drought, thy reign is over ; rain now reigns ; 

Yellowing the clay and brightening the green. 

He wakes the seed plants from their sleep of death ; 

And lills the mouths of rivers, and the city 

Makes a great wash-tub ; from iis roof's and streets 

Emptying the gathered blackness of a month. 

A splendid victory this of" rain o'er shine, 

And the whole Universe is glad once more. 

Not seldom Rain is but a dangerous friend, 

For oft he comes like tierce artillery, 

Bursting the walls of rivers, tearing up, 

The rails, and taking mighty forts by storm 

In very deed, with all a madman's skill. 

Thank heaven, he's sober now, and kindly, too. 



PRAISE. 

And thou, oh infinite Praise, so like the light, 
That makes itself a centre for all worlds, 
Come now and pour thy fullness in our hearts ! 
Then shall we know existence as it is, 
A ray of love reflected back to Him ! 
Hast thou not filled the skies for endless years ? 
Oh had we ears to hear and hearts to feel 
The sweet depths of the music of the spheres ! 
That so our little thoughts might grow sublime, 
Bathed in the ocean of eternal jo) 



212 111! V .1/ ES OF MO VEMENT. 

1860-1866. 

Sky half clear, half thunder, hark ! 
Nearer, nearer to the mark ! 
Tones of Peace from North and West, 
Southern threats of breast to breast. 



Say it quickly, that begun 
That may be, which must be done ; 
(Jive to act the wings of bird ; 
Deed must follow close on word. 

I860. 



Sky all cloud, all thunder, hark ! 
Nearer, nearer to the mark ; 
What was destined, now is done ; 
For a race is Freedom won. 



Now the track of Freedom's laid, 
Peace will bring its grateful shade ; 
Ninth and South no longer be ; 
All are one and all are free. 



This morn, oh Lord, I give to Thee 

Whate'er my heart hath learned ot' praise ; 

Tho' small the gift, so large the theme, 
Thy grace in richest joy repays. 



; REEDOM'S FORT. 213 



FREE DOM'S FORT. 



The old Yankee breed will yet hold the fort 
Which Freedom has built at his every port ; 
And many a Briton shall give up the throne, 
With the peers of the great Western realm to be one. 

And the Irishman's strength and acuteness shall come, 
With the Frank's politesse to make lively our home, 
And the German's bard hand and Italian's rich tone, 
With the pride of the Pole, on free soil shall make one. 

And the honest, firm Swede, and Hungarian, too, 
And the Swiss, free for ages, to our flag may be true; 
And even the Russian may shoulder his gun, 
To make sure that the freest of nations is one. 



And what other tribes may join us, old Time 

May declare when he sends in his message sublime ; 

Let us do unto others as to us we'd have done, 

And who but the whole world with us may be one. 
May, L863. 



PAST AND PRESENT. 

Oh the memories of the Past, 
Like a far-off solemn bell ! 

( )n my heart again they cast 
Jts earliest, strongest spell : 

Pouring through my every vein 
Bounding youth again. 



214 R // 1.1/ ES F MO VEM E Y /'. 

FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

Far away o'er the weary ocean, 
Mid the depths of the forest green, 

'Tis said, is the richest fountain 
That the brightest eye hath scon. 

It is bursting out from the bosom 
Of a region wild -lud strange ; 

And those who bathe in its waters 
Feel not the season's change. 

And there in the desert lonely, 
It bubbles so pure and bright ; 

That the tribes around believe it 
The birth-place of the light. 

And thence the old and feeble, 
From waves as clear as truth, 

I'hcir worn-out limbs renewing, 
I .cap out in the jov of youth. 

And there the sick and dying 
From distant lands are brought, 

And blossom again in beauty, 
As it' b) Heaven re-wrought. 

Whole tubes in search of the fountain, 

A.ge after age ha\ c i^one ; 
Hut arrived where they thought to find it, 
Fwas a little further on. 

Till at last in Calvary's fountain, 

Some bathers did declare, 
That the stream which makes immortal 

Was (lowing only there. 



1 X I'l \ I /'/' 



215 



INFINITE. 

( )li I nfinite, how dol li my soul 

I ,ook up t«> thee for life and iighl I 
For weariness and wa »te and < hange 

Are portioned <>ui to the Finite. 

Whal boots ii thai a moment's shine 

Comes through the deep clouds, making brighl 
The wealth of ilns world, when tis swepl 

I nto i he dai k by I he Finite ! 

( )h I nfinite, send down i hine arm 

Fi om out i he 1 1 hi- blue <>i above, 
And draw my panting spii il up 

I nto i If .ii mo iphei e ol love. 

Then even i are shall smile on pain, 
And brighten sorrow's wings for flighl ; 

So deep a joy I lie lie n ( shall find 
I n dew dl'OpS li om I he I nfinite, 



i ■., 



This coughing, < oughing, < oughing 

Will lake my la-l ol breath, 

Wnh its i ude < latnor, men il< i 
As wintry howl of <l<-'i< h. 

I'm Inn iiiii" , l>m niii", Inn mi," 

My life's blood to a coal, 
Willi dull wanl \ chilling In e S I hal ( al< h 

And waste t he StOI es ol soul. 



216 RHYMES OF MOVEMENT. 

WINTER. 

Hither, oh Winter, with all thy hosts, the earth is ready 

for thee ; 
For she has garnered up her fruit, and stripped the Autumn 

tree, 
And the gay on wing have taken themselves and their 

songs across the deep, 
Our mother needs her yearly rest, come wrap her up for 

sleep. 



Yea spread abroad on hill and plain a coverlet of 

snow ; 
There's manna in thy darkest clouds, which next year's 

green will show ; 
And thou hangest sparkling jewels upon each leafless 

limb, 
For which the landscape thanks thee, tho' 'tis silent in its 

hymn. 



What tho' sweet Nature's cheek is pale, and her features 

even rough, 
And thy fierce breath is chill indeed, and thy voice is harsh 

and gruff, 
Whene'er we see thy gray eyes melt, as oftentimes we 

can, 
We know thou hast a loving heart for Nature and for 

man. 



WINTER. 217 

By thee the foul diseases from the plains are chased 
away ; 

Thou fillest our veins with richest blood, that hath a gen- 
erous play, 

Our worn-out limbs grow young again by the merry, 
sparkling fire, 

And social kindness wakes to mirth the spirit's purest 
lyre. 



But we love thee most, oh Winter, as the Sabbath of the 

year, 
Awaking lofty pleasures that seek a heavenly sphere ; 
When Nature's gay green landscapes receded from the 

eye, 
Have left behind the sun and stars to lift our thoughts on 

high. 

1872. 



How am I spared thro' this bright day j 

I e'en retain my vision ; 
Strange that a man with just two eyes 

Survives the Exposition ! 



United States, we have them here, 
And all in good condition ; 

The world is here, too, wide enough 
At least for Exposition. 

(19) 



218 BH VMES OF MO VEMENT. 

STEAM, FIRK AND WATER. 

Dun city smoking there beneath my feet, 
What dost thou say on this September mom ? 
Thou hast a world of voices j nois) steam, 
Hissing and howling from his thousand haunts, 
Breathing his own white fumes, and forcing out 
The black smoke from the coal on which he feeds; 
Filling the city's concave full of tree- 
Most unsubstantial, that shoot upwards till 
I'liev and their branches lose themselves in air. 
Oh if some stranger from far distant world 
Should stand alone upon this lofty rock, 
And gaze upon those curling shapes that waste; 
And then renew themselves in endless rounds, 
A mill for millions would he think thee ? Thou 
A hearth-lire for a million vet may be. 
Ah ! but the hundred thousand human hands 
And eyes and cars that wake to life intense, 
To keep that terrible power within its bounds, 
What wonders thev work out for thrift and art ! 
Thou, City, art an Exposition ever new, 
Yet ever old, and ever open, too, 
Save when the night throws all things into shade. 
But terrible Nature outdoes all thv shows, 
When the Fire Spirit rages uncontrolled; 
E'en now on yonder height I see the walls 
Red with destruction ere the stroke of bell 
Summons the swift tooted engine to the breach. 
Ah, ruined hopes and wasted fruits ot toil, 
And broken limbs, and houseless families. 
And tierce alarms that rob us oi our youth ! 
Doth not all earthly burn out in its time? 



STEAM, FIRE AND WATER. 219 

Each living thing or work of living thing 
Taking its destined time to be destroyed ? 
But there's a flame beyond your dizzy smoke 
That hath no singes ; 'tis of gentlest hue ; 
It hath the very face of calmest love; 
'Tis the great River basking in the Sun. 
Ye can not chain him clown to your demands; 
Has he not glided there six thousand years ? 
What glorious palaces he brings to thee, 
By those the world still calls the rich and poor 
Trod equally ! What magazines of stores 
He is forever bringing to thy homes ! 
Meat for the hungry from the teeming soil; 
Clothes for the naked by God's creatures given, 
Fleece, thread and fibre, shaped by tireless loom ; 
Drink for the thirsty out of bis clear Hood, 
Dissolving fragrant leaf or berry rich ; 
Roofs for the houseless, healing tor the sick, 
And blackest coal to make the brightest fires ; 
And more than all, the aids of honest toil, 
That work out truth and beauty from this life. 
The mirror stream burns on with morning sun 
And evening's rainbow ; cities rise and fall 
As he does ; but his flow is all untired, 
Depositing his wealth in many a bank, 
But drawing out from others, till at last 
His earnings are laid up in Ocean's sale 
And thus he rolls on till the Earth herself 
Flies from her socket and is lost in space. 

1872. 



220 BUY M E S F M \ ' E M E N T. 

THE SPECTRUM. 

Thou art the Light ; oh give me eyes 

To catch the beam that makes me whole ; 

Thou art the life, oh Jesus come, 

And with Thine own joy fill my soul. 

Richer than seven hues that fill 

The spectrum, may the Faith in Thee, 

The earnest Love to do Thy will, 

And bounding Hope, those living Three ; 

The Patience that still works and waits, 
Th' Experience that its lesson learns, 

And crowning all, Humility, 

To holy Zeal that gently burns ; 

These first and last, at morn and eve, 
Coming and going, one by one ; 

At noon of life a glowing white, 
Send down into my soul, oh Sun ! 

1872. 



Sky, oh sky, steeped in snow, 
Fall and warm us, shaking so, 

All is frozen, sound itself — 

Snow will bring us life and pelf; 

E'en the soul hath for a season 
Need of snow to clear her reason. 



CHRISTMAS. 221 



CHRISTMAS. 



Thou murky sky, all heavy with the past, 
That mournest o'er the ruins of the year; 
Oh dark grey trees that naked stand and stark ; 
Oh glassy ground that puts our steps in fear ; 
Oh hoary hills that sullenly keep guard, 
Oh ice-bound river, struggling oceanward ! 
A slow and silent meteor rends the night ; 
Awake! it grows into a mighty light ! 
What if # all other stars are dead, this one 
Does for us more than all the stars have done. 

Oh murky sky, that putteth on the blue, 
Thou shalt be comforted for ruined years ; 
Oh dark grey trees, to destiny still true, 
Oh glassy ground that new green worlds shall rear ; 
Oh hoary hills that round the sun keep guard, 
A conqueror comes to scatter all the night, 
And Mercy holds the Kingdom now with Right. 
The true Sun rises, giving all earth voice, 
And Christ has come to bid us all rejoice. 



Here we rob ruddy cob of its grains, 
Square or rounded, white or bounded by red stains, 
Smooth or dented, well cemented, for the brains ; 
Sweet and starch, fit to parch for the plains ; 
Starch and gluten, ripest fruit in vigorous living, 
Oily crop, fit to pop for thanksgiving. 



222 R II Y M E S 01 MOVE M E .V T. 

FREEZE AND THAW. 

Waves of a gray ocean 

Are tossing above ; 
Till the worn world's wild playing 

Folds its wings like a dove ; 
What will come of the raining 
But humanity's gaining ? 

With the wide world 'tis Winter, 
Notwithstanding the thaw ; 

Till old Time, the great printer, 
Sows the world with the law ; 

And Alight, too, shall rain on it, 

Ere we see Virtue's grain on it. 

Give the frost with the thaw then, 
The grey sky with blue ; 

Sun and storm cloud will draw then 
The earth out anew ; 

Time's purpose is steady, 

For the Spring make all ready. 



Away, away, 

P'or the glittering day 

Will never stay, 

For thee or thine ; 
So be thy strife 
For noblest life 

And rest divine. 



SUMMER IX THE CITY. 223 



SUMMER IN THE CITY. 



That old friend of ours, the new risen Sun, 

At half past four took pains 
To give us a thing that's forever a joy, 

A thing of true beauty — the rains. 

Yes, the rains of red roses that fell on the spires, 
The windows, and brown roof and hill ; 

And over the faces that blazoned the streets, 
On their way to the shop or the mill. 

And then came the showers of dewy white blue ; 

The Skv that would make Earth its own, 
Ere the stern browed Sun could float up to the heights, 

And set all in a whirl 'neath his throne. 



Yet not of his gems or his crown will we speak ; 

We're republicans too much for that ; 
But while he uncovers his glorious head, 

Not a subject but keeps on his hat. 

And then comes the whirr and the dust and the sheen 

Of the wheels that run riot all day ; 
And the musical pavement that strikes the right beat 

To the tune of the grave and the gay. 

Then the smoke and the steam o'er the world of black roofs, 

And the builders that shout on the wall, 
And the river that screams of its incoming load, 

And the fire-bells' sudden, short call. 



224 R II ) ' M E S OF MOV E M E N T . 

Meantime in the cells of the great city caves, 
Are treasures of new and of old ; 

And counters are brilliant with linens and silks, 
And toys and gay volumes and gold. 



And at last when the Sun's face is anxious and flushed, 

As worn down with shining 'tis wont ; 
The family city, well suppered and gay, 

Is out on the stone steps in front. 



Then each little world passes under review, 

As well as the great world around ; 
And the wisdom and wit of this congress of homes 

In heart cheering speeches abound. 



Friend of my youth, bring back the rosy years, 
When thro' the woods in social converse lost, 
We linked the measured lessons of the school 
With Natures themes so measureless, and saw 
The locomotive of the living work! 
Pull ancient lore adown to modern thought ; 
How swiftly toward us did the future speed ! 
How leaped the hills to greet our gleaming eyes ! 
But ah ! the inevitable depot came ! 
We graduated for the dull, cold world ; 
And dull and cold the toil must often be 
To gain the ticket to the train once more. 



WORN A NJ) /. VE. 



1W0KN AND EVE. 



'Tis the morn with its chanticleers that crow, crow, crow, 
And its mighty steam whistles that blow, blow, blow; 
'Tis morn with its market wheels, that roll, roll, roll, 
And the slowly swinging church bells that toll, toll, toll, 
With its rattling milk wagons that ring, ring, ring, 
And now and then its merry birds that sing, sing, sing; 
'Tis the morn with its stining notes of drum, drum, drum, 
And the busy wheel of industry with its hum, hum, hum ; 
'Tis the morn of all music notes that chime, chime, chime, 
The voices that are company to Nature's pantomime. 
But the hum, drum and chime, and the ring, sing and toll, 
And roll are only music when there's music in the soul. 



'Tis the eve of the martial day, when drum, drum, drum, 
Has drowned the song of industry with its hum, hum, hum ; 
While the merry mingled voices of the boys, boys, boys, 
From their tiny forts till the air with noise, noise, noise; 
But Commerce on our front with his roar, roar, roar, 
Ceases not his mighty billows to pour, pour, pour; 
'Till the chorus of the weary eve is dullest of the dull, 
Save the music of the spheres heard thro' lull, lull, lull. 
But the drum and the roar and the lull only roll 
Towards the mighty Future the heaven enchanted soul. 



226 R II Y M /•' S n F M VEM E .V T 



TO A LITTLE BOY. 



Good little boy, 
Earth's young joy, 

Thou art a query ; 
Why mid the frost world, 
In thy little home curled, 

Art thou so cheery ? 

Brave little boy, 

Singing ship ahoy 

To the old on life's sea ! 

Just leaving shore 

For the voyage forever more- 
Brave, because free. 

Glad little boy, 
Sing out thy joy, 

While there's no fetter ; 
Scenes that now gladden 
May come round to sadden, 

And make thy heart better. 



As an extempore despot, 

Louis weathered it well ; 
But in smashing republics 

His work didn't tell. 
Speculators in empires, 

Tho' they live very fast, 
All history tells us 

Will burst up at last. 



1S74. 



/; ING FO R 1 ■ II i: li S. 2 J7 



DOING FOR OTHERS. 



It is by giving out the light, 
The sun climbs up the day ; 

'Tis less by what we keep we gain, 
Than what wc give away. 

Investing in the world's true wants, 
We best supply our own ; 

The ruling one's own world within 
Man's only real throne. 

Not merely each man for him>elf, 
Each man for others too ; 

The only way this dead old world 
Is made alive and new. 

Most true, unheralded the gifts 
To want, of needful pelf; 

We best can help our neighbor when 
We help him help himself. 



Wait, wait, for the Great 
Source of blessings bids us wait ; 
And a Father's heart hath He ; 
He our own wants best can see ; 
Yet he bids us earnest be, 
Tho' we wait ; 
Bids us wait with longing ; 
On behind us what a thronging 
Of the waiting at the gate ! 



i: II YMES QF 310 V E VEST. 

THE STOUT NUESE. 

The bridge across the gorge had felt the tread 

Of the long train of Nature's wildest, called 

The Great Menagerie, that had amused 

The well packed town. Last came two elephants, 

Whose prescience, call it instinct, it' you choose, 

Told them where danger hung suspended at the floor 

Stretched over from precipitous wall to wall 

Not less precipitous ; the ponderous feet, 

Put forward cautiously, at once drew back : 

They would not further budge. The agent tries 

The temper ot the land-holder, thro' whose rows 

Of corn that gently curved around these walls 

A path of Nature's grading down the bank 

And o'er the stream was possible. But no — 

An elephantine ferriage there was asked, 

The agent would not pay. u Drive them across," 

The stern command the keeper heard. Again, 

The huge feet driven to the bridge's mouth, 

A cautious but a speedier reckoning made 

Of the worn timber's strength, and then recoiled. 

In vain the fierce tones followed, for the beasts 

Were obstinate ; till sharp and merciless. 

The furious keeper's instrument ot steel 

Did goad them on to desperate attempt. 

Onward they rushed with fearful scream, made up 

Of agony and anger, and a crash 

Of timbers falling thirty feet below 

Into the bottom ot the gorge, the two 

Wise monsters bearing with them, told how true 

Their forecast. One unhurt ; the other fell 

Upon his shattered tusk, and thus received 



THE STOUT NURSE. 

Contusion terrible. A bed was soon 

For the poor wounded improvised. No bait 

Or force or wile sufficed to draw away — 

To join the caravan that waited not — 

The lucky one from the unfortunate's side. 

So daily sinking fast, the sick one lay, 

Powerless to move; the fever drinking up 

His death doomed giant life. Whether there be 

A future for the elephant, there was a past 

For this stout foreigner, who far and wide 

Had traveled, since the Hindoo's trap had been 

Too much for his young prudence ; and well tamed, 

No quadruped was e'er an apter scholar. 

Crowds had been daily witnesses to this ; 

Caressed he had been, like all elephants, 

And circled round by eyes of every shade 

And grade of brightness ; and the single hand 

That Nature gave him, had from human hands 

Lifted the luscious presents like a king. 

Did his distracted brain shower curses now 

On those who had enslaved him ? Night and day, 

For three long weeks his faithful relative 

And the grim keeper waited at his side, 

While fever's fires were swelling every limb. 

Now sudden storms the sources of the creek 

Had visited, and piled its waters high, 

Threatening the dying with an earlier death. 

A shelter on the high bank waited nigh ; 

The master's voice soon spent its gentle tones 

In wiles, and then its fiercer ones in vain 

Attempts to make the sufferer rise and walk 

To this rude hospital. Enraged at last, 

lie lifted high a pitch-fork suddenly 

for a deep plunge into the moveless ribs. 



2 tO R U V M ES F MO VEM EN T. 

But the muse elephant snatched it with his trunk, 
Shivering the wood to atoms, and the steel 
Tossing into the deep near by, Meanwhile 
He awed the tyrant with his lion gaze, 
And dared him to approach with cruel aim 
Against the sufferer. Death, the other friend, 
Came soon. I lis duty ^lonc^ the faithful muse, 
With quiet, farewell tread, now tinned away 
To follow the same keeper, and I. 'joined 
The caravan. Hath then the golden rule 
Gone down into the heart of wisest brute? 
Or was this Nature's sympathy that builds 
The great republics of her varied life? 

1874. 



Oh my lost friend, with whom of old 
I wandered o'er the breezy hill, 

And talked of all the mysteries 

That hang around the human will ; 



How glad were 1 to hear from thee, 

Whose soid hath long since passed away 

Into the bright intelligence 

That hangs above the realms of day ! 

What wondrous beauty girds thee now, 
In that far off so strange to me ! 

Oh shall my spirit ever rise 

To breathe those airs that make thee free ? 



r\HYME£ OF -f^EPOpE. 



TO THE SKY. 

Thou glorious Sky ! along thy dizzy height 

How sparkling planets do delight to rove, 
And wink at feeble mortals, when the night 

Invites them out to wonder and to love. 
There solemn grandeur walks serene above, 

And calls each floating world of light its own; 
And there benevolence, celestial dove, 

Is hovering o'er the waters, where alone 
The Almighty Maker builds His everlasting throne. 



Window of heaven ! through which the royal Sun 

Shines on the earth, that in his radiance glows ; 
From his fair front what streams of glory run, 

And from his eye what lightning fire he throws ! 
Then kindles life, and into beauty grows. 

How beauteous then thine own transparent blue! 
So mild and modest ; not the violet knows 

More modesty than thou, whene'er thy hue 
Is calm and cloudless bright — and how majestic, too ! 

(231) 



232 an v m rs of i; i: i'os /;. 

And thou art heaven's laboratory, where 

The elements are compounded, and the dread 
Voice ol the thunder hurries from their lair 

The savage tempests, quickening e'en the dead ; 
The battle clouds in quick array are spread 

While roars the trumpet ot the storm, and flee 
The arrowy lightnings on from bed to bed 

Of mists contending like a mighty sea ; 
The cloud-shot dashing down from heaven's artillery. 



But see that venerable o.tk, that bends, 

Not to the wintry storm, nor hurricane; 
Mow trembles it before a power that rends 

Its massive trunk in splinters; and the rain 
Doth moisten now its broken limbs in vain: 

And one great family in ruin lies 
The growth of centuries ; the forest plain 

Beholds its pride a carcase, and the prize 

Of one resistless Hash, that da/./les while it dies. 



Thou art the same blue sky forever, while 

Th' Almighty holds thee in His nursing hand; 

No tempest leaves thy stately dome a pile 
Of crumbling ruins, nor thy sacred hand 

Ot flashing st. us, to grim decay's command. 

The moon rides gaily still her circuit round, 
And nightly watcMls o'er the sleeping land ; 
The roving comets, visiting thy bound, 
Dare not disturb the scene, nor raise one rebel sound. 



TO III E 8K Y. 233 

But yet thou changes! countenance, and now 

I sec the gathering clouds < an make thee pale ; 
Then anger sits upon thy darkening brow, 

Ami frowns thai make the sailor's hear! to <|n;iil ; 
While o'er the sea ea< h wild unfettered gale, 

Fresh from iis prison, pours a freeman's song , 
The ships thai proudly walked the sea bewail 

Their shattered limits, while waves in armies throng, 
And march to music dire, the trembling shores along. 



Yet even when thy features are severe, 

How bounteous thou ' upon the thirsty earth 
Descends a storm ol bles ings j fai and near 

A million plant 3 an- spi inging into bit i h, 
Where yesterday there reigned the i it kly dearth ; 

'I he fields smile sweetly, robed in gentle green ; 
The d e ihi n< d ail i i lull of song i and mil th, 

And straggling vapors round thai mount are' seen, 
That looked upon the storm with majesty serene. 



Map of the Universe ' where man may view 
'I hose ' limes he may nol travel ; whi< h the tread 

Of fancy reaches not ; a scattering few 
Parts ol a drop on o< ean's boundless bed, 

There Hows the milky River, thai has fed 
Unnumbered systems with it', living lighi ; 

Bui o'ei those trackless highways who has sped? 

Those unknown paths that moek an angels sight, 

And guide from world to world the comet's eagle Right. 



2?> t R II YM E S I ' R E P s E. 

Thou ait a brilliant canvas, where are spread 

Aurora's golden tints, — oh wonder, Art ! 
Upon the gazing clouds are softly shed 

Such lovely hues ! while ruddy heralds start 
From the sun's kingly chariot, — now they part, 

Bearing from one red center, each his way, 
Over thine azure plain ; earth's children start 

In ecstacv from sleep, as though the day 
Would bring the Heavens down to dwell in realms of clay. 

And there is pictured evening, pensive maid, 

Sitting upon the western clouds in splendor ; 
The modest blush upon her cheek has paid 

The warm adieu of Phoebus ; oh how tender 
Those beams that dazzled noonday ! — he must render 

His throne unto the fair, but colder moon ; 
But e'en that robe of white the Sun doth lend her, 

And though he hides himself from earth so soon, 
He sends her silver rays, and she reflects the boon. 

Thou lookest down from yonder lofty towers, 

Upon the earth, with all thy million eyes ; 
Silent spectator ! Guardian of the hours ! 

Marking each scene as whirlingly it flies ; 
Field, forest, ocean, land, before thee lies •, 

Hindoo or Greenlander looks up to thee, 
The same blue heaven ; untrodden mountains rise 

In vain to reach thy border ; how can we 
Search out thy wonders, then, home of eternity ? 

The above, in its original form, written about the year 1835, was one of the 
author's first essays in vetse sent for publication ; it first appeared in the Phila- 
delphia Saturday Evening /'.>.< under an assumed initial signature, the editor 
saying that it was marred with some defects. These the author aimed to cor- 
rect, and, some eight orten years after, a friend in Cincinnati who was con- 
nected with the Heraldqf Truth as contributor and otherwise, to whomitwas 
read .and the above facts stated, requested a copy for republication in the latter 
journal ; and it appeared therein under the author's name. 



FAITH. 235 



FAITH. 



I saw a father swim the wave, 
Beneath each billow yawned a grave — 

Each billow seemed a wreck. 
Oh, calm the eye of of yonder child ! 
He gazed upon the storm, and smiled -, 

He clasped a father's neck ! 



I saw a sailor on a ship, 

He watched the plunging vessel dip — 

A deadly rock before ; 
" Were I the one to guide the helm, 
The rock would crash, the ocean whelm- 

Our pilot knows the shore." 



I saw a soldier in the held, 

His foes what fearful weapons wield ! 

Yet fights he boldly on : 
" My captain 's coming with his troop, 
He'll make their haughty banners droop, 

And then the victory 's won.'' 



I saw a traveler on the sand, 

No shrub or spring o'er all the land — 

All is one pebbly sea ; 
And yet his eye is clear and bright, 
A caravan is just in sight, 

Why should he fearful be ? 



236 Ml YMES OF R EPOSE. 

I saw the man of faith — the storm 

Of death beat round his wasted form, 

But moved him not a hair ! 

He raised to Heaven a trusting glance, 

" I love thy kind Omnipotence, 

My Father, every where.'" 
M viiii . 1 1 \, L836. 



THE HILLS. 

Some pine for the verdured plain, 
Some long for the boundless sea ; 

And some for the mountain above the rain, 
But the hills, the hills tor me ! 



How blight is the swelling sail, 
As it mingles with the sky ! 

Wow rich the snow cap, resting pale 
On the peaks when- the breezes die! 



Here from this blooming hill, 

The wave and the mount 1 see; 

The plain and the river that winds at its will- 
The hills ! the hills ! tor me. 



The hills fear not the storm ; 

Disease delights in the vale ; 
Here the head is cool, and the heart is warm- 

1 lail to the green hills, hail ! 



/. / A IS S 1 1 ' R 1 T T i: S I \ . I A .[ i. n UM, 237 

LINKS WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 

'I'liis life is but a morning dream, 
'T is full of woe, 'tis full of glee ; 

'I he darkest night lias some gay beam, 

A shadow follows every gleam, 
Yet be the vision sweet to ihee ! 



This life is like a mountain rill, 

Whose rippling waters haste to lice ; 

Young Hope is dancing to its trill ; 
May Memory's silver fountain fill 
A cup of" purest joy for thee! 

This life is like a sunset cloud, 

Uprising from a boundless sea ; 
Now wrapt in misery's purple shroud-, 
And now in rainbow glories proud — 
Its brightest glories shine on thee I 

This life is like the vernal sone, 

That rings from yonder flowering tree; 
It tells of one who sails erelong 
Where richer Strains and flowers belong — 
I hat heavenly music flows for thee. 

Life is the Evening Beauty's swell ; 

It wakes the sinking day to see, 
As if to bid the Sun farewell, 
And catch the twilight's holy spell, — 

' Lis sad to say farewell to thee. 



238 R // 1.1/ ES OF REP0S1 

Thy life be like thy calm blue eye, 

Thy (lowing form, thy smile so free ; 
[f thou look, brightest at the sk\, 
That smile in death shall scarcely die, 
Ami death itself be life to thee. 



There is another life —prepare; — 

A friend in need -oh how the knee' 
When thy freed spirit cuts the air, 
r will hiul some si>tci angel there, 
To ope the gates of heaven to thee. 

[ndiana, 1837. • 



TOIL. 

Oh wear} toil and cheerful rest. 

What true firm friends ve are ! 
Sweet meals, sweet hearth, sweet evening sleep, 

What loom is left for cai e. 



So well and fast rolls on the day, 

Its depots moi n and night ; 
\s all emphu ed, we jo) ful ride 
O'er the smooth tail of Right. 



S r'.\ s ii i \ /: 



239 



SUNSHINE. 

When the sky is mild and blue, 

And the- light chops down like dew, 

We will sil bene. it li I he shade, 

And look oui upon i lie glade. 

1 low Messed the shine, 
l'o the sheep and t he kinc ; 
To tin- dropsical plant, 
l'o the ai chitect ant ; 

l'o I lie farmei ml he weeds, 
l'o the gardener with Ins seeds, 

l'o t he st, u \ ing washerwoman, 
l'o the hai vesi ;• ai hei ing yeoman ; 
l'o ( he sailor on t he wave, 
Id the faithful, worn-out brave; 
lot he buo\ ant souled eiptestrian, 
l'o the landless gay pedesl i ian ; 

While t he thrush upon t he ti ee 

Tells in i ichesi melody, 

1 low all mankind ai e broi hers ; 

Each has liis owe, hut works lor others 

'lie- vast estate ol one Kind Sire; 

The Sun is hut a family lire ! 



Indiana, 1837, 



240 lill Y M ES U F R E 1 ' S E . 

STANZAS. 

The mountain goat is on the rock, 

Where man ne'er trod, and can not tread ; 
What landscapes on his vision break ! 
What grandeur bows beneath his head ! 
And I could wish that I were there, 
To melt in rapture, rise in prayer. 



A bird is on the sunny cloud, 

The blooming world is spread below, 
And all enwrapt with silver shroud, 
Hills, vales, and cities brightly glow ; 
He seems an angel in his flight, 
Why have I not his wings of light ? 



The whale ploughs up a sea of ice, 
Searches the gardens of the deep ; 
And there are gems beyond all price, 
O'er which the seasnakes idly creep; 
Where man may sink mid ocean's fern, 
But whence he never may return. 



The little drop of rain may pierce 
Earth's bosom to its rocky core, 
And see awake the earthquakes fierce, 
That snatch the city from the shore ; 
Science would throw away her pride, 
And in that fragile vessel s^lidc. 



THE LITTLE RILL. 241 

The white bear walks the Pole alone, 

To him the blasts are gentle breezes ; 
Where man in furs would turn to stone, 
He knows not that it even freezes ; 
Could Ross put on his frame of brass, 
He soon would find the Northwest pass. 



And there are thousand things that live, 
Where man would give his life to go; 
And theories and dreams must weave, 
Because he can not, can not know ; 
He should rejoice, the world's so full, 

That all its flowers he can not cull. 

Indiana, 1837. 



THE LITTLE KILL. 

Dear little rill, 

Older than I am, older than all of us, 

Yet young as ever ; 

Would the great Giver 

Give us thy river 

Of sunshiny thoughts that escape the most tall of us, 

Full of sweet will 

That storms can not chill, 

And joyous endeavor, 

Glowing forever. 

(21 I 



242 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

TO THE WOODS. 

Ye woods ! the leafy covering of the Earth, 

Guarding from Summer's heat and Winter's cold; 
Save where the white bear quaffs his vigorous mirth, 

Amid the icy mountains bright and bold ; 

The parasols that May and June unfold ; 
The furs of temperate climes that shed the storm ; 

The green robes of the Past, that ne'er grow old ; 
'Tis yours to keep the soul of Nature warm, 
To throw the charms of health and beauty o'er her form. 



The woods — the pastures where the Indian roved ; 

As homeless as the deer or buffalo ; 
And as they changed their country, so he changed, 

Still going where his untamed herd would go, 

Through marshes where the ranks of Cypress grow, 
Or ever verdant meadows of the cane, 

Or up the hills where weaker forests bow, 

Or where the cotton-woods embower the plain ; 

Ye were his fenceless farm, but ne'er shall be again. 



He's gone — far driven toward the rocky West ; 

In other wilds he hears the panther's scream ; 
The grisly bear comes growling on his rest, 

And eves oi' other deer yet mildly gleam ; 

Oh ! does he of his long lost country dream? 
His own, his father's wrongs yet wake the fire, 

Revenge alone can quench ? or does the beam 
From Calvary's Sun melt down his fiercer ire, 
To love for paler sons of his Eternal Sire ? 



TO THE WOODS. 243 

Ye vast republics ! ever firm and free ; 

Children of Time ! that slow, but surely rise; 
Long centuries rear up the giant tree ; 

Like noble souls, it emulates the skies ; 

Beneath, the plant of groveling spirit lies, 
Content to borrow from its mighty shade ; 

The vigorous sapling, as the patriarch dies, 
Lifts to the Sun of glory its green head, 
And feeds on rays intense which once its parent fed. 



As 'neath their boughs, a pigmy form, I rove, 
They seem so many pillars of the sky ; 
• The clouds are resting on their tops above; 

And birds, like angels, lighting from on high, 
Heaven's hymns rehearse, or on its errands fly ; 
While breezes whisper softly through the trees, 

And scattered gleams the dewy branches dry ; 
Cheering each opening flower that gently heaves, 
And mingling that rich cup the wandering bee receives. 



Zephyr awakes a little world of sails, 

And bids them revel in his rich perfume; 
Myriads of insect voyagers bless the gales, 

And fatten on the fast reviving bloom ; 

Nor think how soon their world shall be their tomb 
The smallest leaf that falls destroys a race; 

An Autumn makes a Universe of gloom ! 
Oh could our eves each scene of ruin trace, 
How we would think the earth was but a burial place! 



244 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

But when the autumn has disrobed each limb, 

And laid it bare to wintry sleet and snow, 
And light comes through the thickets cold and dim, 

And hurricanes their fearful furrows plow, 

How meekly to adversity ye bow ! 
Ye know that flowers will bloom above the dead, 

And bid frail man be ready, even now, 
For that great change, which may exalt his head 
Above the clouds that o'er the forests make their bed. 



Ye tuneful woods ! ye love the joyous song ; 

The warbler's melody enchants the grove ; 
Ye are the empire of the birds, and long 

They linger in the bowers they dearly love; 

And when rich human voices soar above 
The murmurings of care to gratitude, 

How sweetly by your echoes ye approve ! 
Swiftly the strains fly through the solemn wood 
As if it felt how blest were man if pure and good. 



Unceasing worshippers ! whose verdant palms 
Are stretched forever toward the bounteous sky ; 

Nor yet in vain ye ask of heaven alms ; 

Light, heat, rain, dew, descending from on high, 
The drooping raise, the dead revivify. 

Would man surrender up his soul to prayer, 
His years might number yours, and as they fly, 

More deeply might he drink of heavenly air, 
Until he quits his clay, scarce knowing when or where. 



TO THE WOODS. 245 

But there ye stand outwearing centuries, 

That seem to make you mightier foes of death ; 

Though age his wrinkles deepen on the trees, 

Yet Spring has newer leaves for Summer's breath, 
Unheeding those November casts beneath ; 

Gaily they dance their summer strength away, 
Till Autumn a new harvest gathereth ; 

The naked trunks with tempests yet will play, 
While empires and their purple glory pass away. 



The ocean ebbs and flows from age to age ; 

'Tis an eternity of liquid change ; 
The " Falls " are the sublimity of rage, 

Boiling like outraged spirits for revenge ; 

And prairies seem like solid oceans strange ; 
In solemn grandeur ye surpass them all ; 

No storms your sturdy phalanx disarrange ; 
Ye answer proudly when the thunders call ; 
And where ye stood for life, whene'er ye must, ye fall. 



Ye were the temples where the Saviour went, 

To call down mercy on a thankless race ; 
Ye bowed your heads in reverence as he bent, 

While Nature gazed enraptured on his face ; 

Sublimer scene than fancy e'er can trace ! 
For when beneath the starry crown of even, 

He kneeled, ye felt that God was in the place ! 
For this, what songs go up from souls forgiven, 
Beneath the trees of Life, those Vocal Woods of Heaven ! 
Kentucky, 1837. 



246 



/;// VMES OF i: EPOSE. 



HI Al L A.LONE. 

How cold .uul dark the night around! 

The breezy Autumn nay is gone ; 
Hut still remains the wind's low sound 

To tell me 1 am all alone. 



Far, far away am 1 from home ; 
Its visions crowd my thoughts upon ; 

Where'er 1 go, while thenee 1 roam, 
I'm still alone, I'm still alone. 



We brothers 'neath that old oak tree, 

Gave up our hours to cheer and tun ; 
But many a nobler oak 1 see, 

To mind me that I'm now alone. 



From yonder field, how rich the song 

That hails me ere the morning Sun' 
Delight then swells mv spirit strong, 
Till I bethink me I'm alone. 



1 see a bright young form go by, — 

I lis kuullv look my heart has won; 
M\ earliest friend had such an eye — 

Hut now he's left me all alone. 



rill ALL .1 LO \ !■:. 241 

Amid the city's blaze of art, 

I low many such one glance have thrown, 
Then left an unknown brother heart 

To sinjj; with me, " I'm all alone ! " 



Yet lonelier far the worldly great, 
Upon his sword encircled throne ; 

Whom all obey, and fear, and hate - 
I joy that I'm not thus alone. 



Hut even in the darkest night, 

When round my path the storm has blown, 
I've sung, and from the unseen height 

Has echo answered, " Not alone/' 



And here is spread a cheerful hoard, 
To wake the care-worn spirit's tone ; 

A family sits round the board — 
I'll think that family my own. 



Before me climbs the murmuring fire, 
A sight to thaw a heart of stone; 

Would thus my kindling thoughts aspire, 
'Twere even bliss to be alone. 



Then let the world without be cold, 
My spirit shall not inly moan ; 

Hope shall a second self unfold, 
A warmer soul — I'm not alone. 



248 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

What though no friend bestow a smile, 
Or lend to transient grief a tear ; 

And none, of whom oblivion's wile 
May never rob this heart, appear ; 



Yet while I hear my Maker's voice, 

All hearts and homes seem mixed in one ; 
While Him I love, I may rejoice 

That I can never be alone. 

Illinois, 1838. 



MIND AGAINST SOUL. 

The truly rich ? 
Is he the heir of lofty mind, 
Whose ken may compass all mankind ; 
Whose mental plains Time's swelling river 
Shall flood with deeper soil forever ; 
Yet o'er them filthy waters lie, 
Where Vice may flourish, Virtue die, 
And weeds of thought enwrap the grave 
Of Peace — where sullen willows wave ? 
The bittern's doleful note shall teach — 
Who Virtue wants, can ne'er be rich. 



EVENING. 249 



EVENING. 



The West is red, 

The river is flame, 
Like the mind that is wed 
To the light of Fame ; 
The Day, like the saint just ripe for the skies, 
Gives the earth one heavenly smile and dies. 



And lo the hill 

Hath a golden hue ! 
And the fairies fill 

The flowers with dew ; 
And now let the heart to its Maker given, 
Look up till the eye hath a tinge of heaven. 



The stars are around 

The pensive moon ; 
And the far off sound 
Of the spheres in tune, 
Comes over the earth like a voice of love, 
To tell that the Earth has a Friend above ! 



How many doctors for the ills 

That crowd us toward the infernal ; 

Alas ! there's but one medicine, 
And that is the eternal ! 



250 BH YMES OF REPOSE. 

STANZAS. 

I love the morn, the ruddy morn, 

When first she leaps from yonder East, 

And bids her herald wind his horn, 

To wake from slumber man and beast ; 

For on the Day's returning youth, 

Is deeply graved immortal Truth. 



I love the noon, the dazzling noon, 
When Nature lies in quiet wonder; 

And hurried to his height so soon, 
Yon orb has rent the day asunder ; 

It images man's ripened breath, 

Alike removed from birth and death. 



I love the evening — she receives 

The hues which Day has left behind ; 

A robe of peerless beauty weaves, 
As if to clothe the deathless mind ; 

The graves of Day's departed hours 

She richly strews with starry flowers. 



I love the night, the dark, dark night, 
For then I seek the spirit's home ; 

The inner world grows clear and bright ; 
And from the spirit mansions come 

Sweet voices, melting on my ear — 

They tell me that my God is near. 



LIFE. 251 



LIFE. 



Life is a bud of early growth, 

And Death is winter's latest frost ; 

How oft the bud is nipped before 

'Tis known how sweet a flower is lost ! 



Life is the Morning Glory ; pure 

And white it meets the earliest Sun ; 

But ere he gains the zenith, lo ! 
The glory of the flower is gone. 



Life is the Althea ; long it bears 

The frosts of autumn, keen and chill, 

When lovelier colors all are fled ; 
But age itself at last will kill. 



Life is the Evening Beauty ; bright 
In sunset hues it opes and dies ; 

As at the eleventh hour, a soul 

Awakes in time to reach the skies. 

1830. 



The largest still from smallest grow, 
And to smallest will return, 

As in the crucible of Time 
All deeds to ashes burn. 



252 II II YME S F RET S E . 

HILL SCENE. 

Oh where in this world could I find a retreat 
More accordant with pleasure than mine, 

On the verge of my own native village so sweet, 
On the hill side enclasped by the vine. 



Tho' steep the ascent, so pure is the air, 
It thrills you with joy as you rise ; 

The azure above so invitingly fair, 
You seem to ascend to the skies. 



The rills as they dance on their way to the vale, 

Look up in your face with a smile ; 
And the leaves, as they spread to the breezes their sail, 

Your heart with their music beguile. 



And here would I stand and look out on the world, 

As if it were gathered all there ; 
May the banner of Truth and Peace widely unfurled, 

Make a home for my heart every where. 

1816. 



Are great things to be done ? We should 

Not wait for all to start 
On the right track before we move, 

But straight and do our part. 



HYMN BENEATH DA WALAGERI. 253 

HYMN BENEATH DA WALAGERI. 

Thou awful form, that risest far, 

Far up into the darkening sky, 
Until beneath yon glittering star, 

Thou seem'st an iceberg hung on high ; 
Oh say if saints acclimed in heaven, 

E'er meet, on thee, when skies are fair, 
Earth's excellent, whose souls are riven, 

One hour, from clay and chaos there ? 



Far, far above the realms of dew, 

Upon the earth thou lookest down ; 
And on thy shoulder rests the blue, 

Cemented round thy dazzling crown. 
So near the stars thou seemest to dwell, 

Did not thy base reveal the birth 
Of these wild flowers, 'twere hard to tell 

If thou wert part of heaven or earth. 



Thou Pyramid of Nature's build, 

That sham'st the loftiest piles of man ; 
With Nature's secrets thou art rilled, 

Let Time reveal them if he can. 
No beast-god lurks within thy halls ; 

No mummied monarch sleeps in thee; 
But Chemist Nature, 'neath thy walls, 

Works ever undisturbed and free. 



25-J /.'// YMES OF I: EPOSE. 

The Himmalehs ! a temple reared 

By God himself o'er Asia's plain ; 
And thou its spire — and Asia feared 

His name of yore — Oh ! when again? 
Amid yon lesser peaks 'tis thine 

To rise, the loftiest minaret ; 
Still on those handled millions shine — 

Thy Maker they shall worship yet. 



Thy cone doth pierce the firmament, 

As if its azure to adorn 
With some archangel's rainbow tent, 

Upon thy summit pitched at morn. 
Oh hadst thou but a listening car, 

When gather Heavenly Councils round, 
Perhaps the secret thou might'st hear, 

When the last awful trump shall sound. 



I gaze until my eyesight fails — 

Although thy rocky base is broad, 
Thy summit seems a cloud that sails 

And mounts toward the throne of God. 
Oh tell me, if from yonder star, 

That through thee seems to shoot its ray. 
Thou hearest tones, that come afar 

From spheres lit up by endless day ? 



HYMN BENEATH DAWALAOEBI. 255 

Thou loftiest spot of Earth, no trace 

Has mortal left upon thy height ; 
Art thou a way-side resting place 

For yon pure messengers of light ? 
Could I be there when Earth and Sky 

Shower all their glories on thy even, 
Say, could I sec those angels fly 

Adown the soul's highway to heaven ? 



In vain I gaze and long — thy tower, 

Though dazzling as the peaks of fame, 
Is cold as highest height of power, 

That freezes all but heaven born flame. 
Thou mayst, when man has dropt the clod, 

The world's observatory be ; 
Life-kindled at the throne of God, 

He then may melt his path to thee. 

Cincinnati, 1849. 



Is he the rich ? 
The lordling of a boundless realm, 
Of some vast government the helm ; 
Whom Fortune scorches with her favors, 
And Fame but sickens with sweet savors; 
Beset by flatterers as by mice, 
The slave of passion and of vice ; 
His virtues mangled by his errors •, 
His fears wrought up to thousand terrors ; 
His dearest friend a hungry leech ? — 
Heaven save me then from being rich ! 



256 RHY M E S ( ) F B E 1 ' S E . 

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. PRICE. 

I saw her, when her eye was lit with youth, 

Deep thoughts and pure were written on her brow ; 
Her features were the beautiful of truth ; 

Her kind and silvery voice, I hear it now ; 

Then to her charms did many a true heart bow ; 
In her, by all observed, beloved, admired, 

How generously Nature can endow, 
We clearly saw ; in her we saw attired 
The grace of Goodness, and a Conscience all inspired. 



I saw her, when a wife ; she made her home 

First happy for her husband, then her friends ; 
Toward the house of God she loved to roam, 

Nor elsewhere, save for sympathy that lends 

Beauty to life, or charity that spends 
The heart most freely both for joy and pain ; 

While those two blossoms in whom Nature blends 
The sire and mother, it was hers to train 
That they might ripen here, and bloom in heaven again. 



I saw her when the Pestilence was stealing 

So noiselessly among us. It was morn, 
And on her cheek was health and buoyant feeling. 

Light was his footstep, when he came to warn — 

But anxious with her duties to adorn 
The hours, she toiled till the destroyer threw 

His poison in her blood. It left forlorn 
Her icing heart — she sunk away — till flew 
Speech, consciousness and life, ere day was made anew. 



A SUMMER DAY IX THE WOODS. 2J7 

I saw her spirit going to its God ! 

Her track was, to my mind's eye, bright and clear. 
Then weep not bitter tears upon her sod, 

Husband, and little ones, and friends so dear, 

To her the glorified ; she still is here, 
In all but flesh and blood ; and yet have ye 

A wife, a mother, and a friend, so near 
The throne ! Behold her when ye bend the knee ! 
She waits at heaven's door, till ye can come and see ! 

Cincinnati, 1S50. 



A SUMMER DAY IN THE WOODS. 

The leaves are humming a sweet tune. They dance, 

As if to cheer the grave old oaks. The thrush 

Is glancing through the boughs so tremblingly ! 

You feel kind Nature drawing out your soul 

Towards all her feeblest children. Here a stream 

Rolls by majestic, talking to himself 

Of the great Ocean he is soon to swell ; 

And finds an echo in your heart, for there 

Doth Feeling roll its river on to Bliss. 

Now Fancy offers Hope a passage free. 

Now Love sits on the soul like softened light. 

Now thought seems all enchantment, strangely calm — ■ 

Like waters seemingly at rest, because 

Their sky-reflecting channel is so smooth. 

So let us often glide away from care, 

And bathe our spirits in the quiet grove. 

And then let Memory, like a genial friend, 

Uncalled for, come, and seat her by us here. 

Our happy souls shall bid her welcome, for 

She visits this sweet spot with none but Peace. 

(22) 



2j8 mi TMES OF REPOSE. 

EVENING STANZAS. 

Oh come ! when sunset's hectic flush 
The day's declining glory lightens, 

And Nature's loveliest colors rush, 

To deck the smile that dying brightens. 

Oh come ! when every breeze is still, 
And every leaf is calmly sleeping ; 

And yonder sky, whose eyelids rill 
With dewy tears, is gently weeping. 

Oh come, when forest songsters' 1 notes 
Grow plaintive as their lays are dying, 

And many a golden vapor floats 

Around the couch where twilight's lying. 



Oh come ! with gentle hearts that burn, 
As Day's last glance is upward darting, 

And bid thy chastened spirit learn 

To take from earth so sweet a parting. 



NIAGARA. 

Niagara, — age after age, — 

Untiring at his duty, — 
His awful grandeur grows to calm, 

All swallowed up in beauty. 



T If i: F ALL E S < • T TO N W <> 1>. 259 

THE FALLEN COTTONWOOD. 

Lone remnant of the dimly pictured past, 

I bring my solitary song to thee. 

Although thy crown upon the earth is cast, 

And thou hast ceased the forest king to be, 

Thy greatness in thy ruin I can see ; 

See in that scarred embrace, like coil of wire, 

Thy ancient stateliness and majesty, 

Whose form rose up so high, a verdant spire, 

It plucked upon its head the heavens' all conquering fire. 

Within thyself thou wert a boundless world, 

Nursing on every bough a thousand more ; 

Thy leaves, those vernal sails, were never furled, 

Yet ever anchored to their native shore, 

On Being's voyage mysterious they bore 

The busy tribes that shun the human eye, 

But wonders none the less ; till Autumn bore 

The weather-beaten canvas from on high, 

And bade a year's creation change and fall and die. 

lint while they lived, how glorious ! Softest dews 

Came down to fill each flowret's golden cup, 

And every leaf the morning's glances drew, 

Smiling like Love upon the eye of Hope •, 

And fairies seemed within thy bowers to sup, 

As sunset spread her pensive glories there ; 

And while their arms in praise were lifted up, 

Thy shade grew infinite along the plain, 

E'en as a spirit's life upon the eternal main. 

Thou wast a temple, and thy organ choir 

Sent up to heaven the summer's offering; 

Each year successive built thee broader, higher, 

To gain new worshippers from every spring; 



260 /.'// VMES OF REPOSE. 

How did the joyous anthem, wont to ring 
From out thy flower dome, eloquent with prayer, 
At once all Nature lift upon the wing, 
And bring youth, beauty, age from toil and care, 
To bathe their hearts in praise, and find their Father there ' 
How long wast thou, oh fallen one, a tower, 
A Babel in the silent wilderness ! 
How long thy shadow traveled with the hour, 
From morning's blush to evening's parting kiss ! 
How many generations sought the bliss 
Of" well earned rest upon thy boughs, whose wings 
The gentle dews relieved from weariness ; 
'Tis nothing to thee now ; no warbler sings 
Upon thy broken crown, thou chief of forest kings. 
/Mas ! how many a race has dropt in dust 
Whilst thou wert standing in thy noble pride ! 
Full many a soul its sin wrought chains has burst, 
And climbed the azure heights to thee denied, 
Even while the heavens seemed resting by thy side; — 
Those far off scenes which Faith can bring so nigh, 
!'o hearts wherein their images abide; — 
Thv shadow wrapt the sod where now they lie, 
Till thro' the tempest came the warning, "thou must die." 
Year after year a family of flowers 
And leaves were born to dame into a grave 
Beneath their birth-place. Thro 5 the Summer hours, 
Mow were they wont in every breeze to wave, 
And teed on fragrance which the breezes gave ; 
Until the flowers, thv gentle offspring, fell ; 
Then Winter bade the herald tempest rave; 
Till Death came up and stormed thy citadel. 
The vast, the echoing wood then heard thy dying knell. 



A 11 U X D II E D V !■: . I /.' 8 II E N C E . 2G1 

A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE. 

How fast the wheels of Time move on ! 
How quickly is a century gone 

With all its waste of life ! 
And still another century comes, 
To scatter all around our homes, 

Its world of sin and strife. 



Where now are all the lovely scenes 
That hung around the smiling greens 

Where I was wont to plav ? 
No more the harvest here is reapt, 
An hundred wintry blasts have swept 

Those lovely scenes away. 



The forest that so beauteous stood, 
To shade the minstrel multitude, 

Has melted from the plain ; 
And far and near the city swells, 
And not a single locust tells 

The minstrel's song again. 



The fields that yearly waved their wheat 
Are trodden by the myriad feet ; 

Their verdure dead and gone ; 
And ne'er beneath those feet shall spring 
Such flowers as erst have spread their wine 

To play with breeze and sun. 



2C.2 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

The lovely gardens vanished too, 
And all in vain the morning dew 

Still bathes the lonely spot, 
Where many a brilliant eye lit up, 
As there from Nature's flowing cup 

It drank its fill of thought. 



But mid the acres that I tilled 
Where now the smiling cot that filled 

Mv soul with gratitude? 
No more this eye my sweet home sees 
Beneath the spreading locust trees, 

A gentle brotherhood. 



Tis gone, and every cheerful smile 
That lit the sacred place the while, 

Has melted into night ; 
In vain the wanderer's teet return 
Where meeting hearts no longer burn 

With love's unearthly light. 



No friends remain of all the band 

That spread the true light thro'" the land ; 

No kindred now remain •, 
Not e'en the relic of a grave 
Is left by Time's destroying wave, 

That swept my native plain. 



DEATH BY T J I E R A I) S 1 1) E. 263 

The busy throng around I see 
Is loneliest solitude to me; 

The homes of wealth and taste 
But shine to make me still more lone ; 
For all with which I once was one 

Lies desolate and waste. 



DEATH BY THE ROADSIDE. 

None waits upon the dying man, 

He needs no help to die •, 
For he began the world alone, 
His pathway was a lonely one ; 
Yet man he loved, and could not one 

Receive his parting sigh ? 



He loved his brother and his God, 

And served them in his way ; 
And oft he felt the chastening rod. 
Which drove him faster on the road 
Until too weak to bear the load, 
On that cold bed he lav. 



And when the spark was almost gone, 
I icached that place of gloom. 

Light was my step — his eye was won ; 

Said he, " I do not die alone."- 

1 he flashing of his eye was done, 
His spirit hastened home. 



2G4 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

FAREWELL. 

Farewell, departing; spirit, 

Thine hour is dwindling fast ; 

Oh gladsome be thy flight to join 
The assembly of the p.i>t. 

Yet ere thv reign is over, 
Bring hack to Fancy's day 

The joys, the woes, the hopes, the fears 
That pass with thee away. 

Yea, bring the voice ot~ sorrow, 
The tears that dimmed mine eve ; 

For tears we shed in fittest time 
Our natures purify. 

Grief's brine can memory sweeten, 

And eternize its years ; 
Like floral gems embalmed and gilt 

With their own amber tears. 

Bring with thee, too, the gladness 
That thrilled mv spirit through; 

Those voices from the stream and wood 
That came with morning's dew. 

But thou, pale year, art going-, 
'Tis almost twelve ; good night ; 

Thou never can'st forgotten be 
Through all the season's flight. 



SLEEP. 265 



1850. 



The sceptre's taken from thee ; 

Another year has come ; 
Farewell, but I shall follow soon 

To our eternal home. 



In that great hall of judgment 
When I shall meet thee there, 

Perhaps thy unborn brethren may' 
A better record bear. 



SLEER 

Thou gentle sleep, oh holy sleep, 

Thou art to us a gem 
That brightens every ray of life, 

And weaves its diadem. 



Oh who would drag the mangled day 
Thro' storm and fire and cold ; 

Did not sweet sleep come down to lead 
The weary to her fold ? 



Near B. & O. R. R., so like 

A sculptured hero tall, 
Cheat Mountain by Cheat River stands, 

And is no cheat at all. 



(23) 



2G6 RHYMES OF BE POSE. 

THE DEPARTED. 

'Tis good, while Time is wasting, 
To nurse the dreams of hope, 

And to revive the varied past 
In memory's telescope. 

We now enjoy the danger 
That woke our fears of yore 5 

And so enjoy its memory 
We almost wish for more. 



Our meetings and our partings ! 

The pleasure and the pain ! 
And some, alas ! we parted from, 

We ne'er shall meet again. 



I watched a form of beauty, 
Long wasting to the grave ; 

The soul it wrapt went brightening on 
Thro' sorrow's every wave. 

Week after week the spirit 

Nerved as the cheek grew pale, 

Until the List faint gasp drew forth 
A mother's piercing wail. 

That broken mould ot manhood, 
To its own earth thrown back ; 

That measureless maternal love, 
And this memorial black — 



THE DEPA B TED. 267 

All things that freshly cherish 

Thoughts sacred to the dead ; — 
Why bring they not now Death's dull gloom, 

But holier thoughts instead ? 



'Tis that the lost bring visions 
Of a brighter, lovelier home ; 

? Tis that I see in hope that throng ! 
That temple's golden dome ! 

And on the couch of anguish, 

That friend's eye sought the Giver 

Of light with such a gaze intense, 
As closed its lids forever ! 

And oh to hear such gladness 
Poured out in shortened breath ! 

T'was bliss to see so wan a cheek 
So beautiful in death ! 



But now that spirit seemeth 

A brother in the sky ; 
That keen, bright eye, that pure white brow 

Are with me till I die. 

18J0. 



Sweet Sabbath eve, thy gorgeous shroud 
Grows brighter still with every cloud ; 

So every trial may unroll 

Some page of glory for the soul. 



268 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

THE WILD FLOWER 

I found a lily in the wild, 

I found a lily fair ; 
So sweetly on its stalk it smiled, 

I left it blooming there. 

There were no rival flowers around ; 

No sister hues were nigh ; 
But it rose thro 1 the bush like a lone star seen 

White thro' the misty sky. 

The rugged plants seemed lovelier 

As they leaned to the lily's stem ; 
And the tall rough tree would hardly stir, 

Lest a leaf should crush the gem. 

And the sun, as he hastened to the wood, 

Sent down his softest ray 
Through the boughs where the forest beauty stood, 

To shed the mildest day. 

And when the rain came pelting there, 

The leaves were a roof of green ; 
And they wove a diamond wreath for a brow 

The gentlest ever seen. 

And there mid the pearls on the sweet flower's breast, 

There seemed a spirit fair, 
Fresh from the regions of the blest, 

To plant an Eden there. 



SMI 11 A Til. 209 



SABBATH. 



Thou glorious Sabbath, o'er the world 
Once more is seen thy kindly sway ; 

The flag of peace is wide unfurled, 
And sorrow's legions shrink away. 

Oh come, bid every fear depart, 

And shake thy dew upon the heart. 

Almost six thousand years have gone 
Since Earth first oped her eyes on thee ; 

And an approving smile had won 
From Him who rules Eternity ; 

Ye waves of time, still onward flow, 

'Till Earth with Eden's light shall glow. 

Away, away, our hopes go forth 

In search of that lost boon of heaven, 

Presented at Creation's birth, 

To be restored when Earth's forgiven ; 

That creat ideal true to bliss, 

The innocence of happiness. 



EVENING TOWARD HOME IN THE CITY. 

Merry sweet voices fleet as I go 
Down the long street, life's overflow ; 
Playful old voices, humorous and slow, 
Join in the chiming, life's underflow ; 
Nature's wild music, young life's halloo ; 
Heavy, deep voices, solemn and slow, 
They are the bass notes, manly and clear — 
The street a vast family hall, full of cheer. 



270 RHY M E S F R E P l > S E . 

SABBATH MORNING. 

The grateful Sun his burning brow 
From yon hill chamber lifts on high, 

And thrills my voice with praise as now 
My eyes are kindled with the sky. 

* 
A thousand hues that round Earth bend 

Make joyful all created things ; 
For them let myriad thanks ascend 

To Him who reigns o'er myriad kings. 



May penitence dissolve mv soul 
Until my tollies are forgiven ; 

And all my better feelings roll 

Unchecked toward the sea of heaven. 



To-dav a pilgrimage I take 

To His bright land who made us free ; 
And terribly the earth did shake 

While conquering Death on Calvary. 



Oh could I see Him on the straw, 

The wise men kneeling round his head 

Oh could I see, as those who saw, 
The morning when He left the dead. 



SABBA Til EYE, 271 



SABBATH EVE. 



Thou, Sabbath Eve, hast lost thy blue, 
But all the more hast richest hue, 
As when the Christian sinks in night, 
His robe assumes the purest white. 



Sweet Sabbath Eve, thy holy calm 
Steals o'er my wounded heart like balm ; 
And spreads beneath my spirit's eye 
A scene like thine enchanted sky. 



Oh Sabbath Eve, it matters not 
What sorrows chill my weary lot, 
When Jesus sends thy gentle ray 
To melt those sorrows all away. 



-o— 



PBAYER AND PRAISE. 

Come to us, Prayer and Praise, the loveliest pair 
That Heaven e'er sent to missionize the earth ; 
Come earnest Prayer that hath the single eye ; 
Come Praise that brings us near and nearer Him, 
Whose best gift is the being like to him ; 
Come quickly, ere our spirits clog with earth ; 
Come with the earliest dawn and midday sun, 
An \ rising noon and all the crown of stars ; 
Fill every thought and feeling, that we may 
At last, tho' late, not merely learn but live. 



272 II II YMES OF REPOSE. 

UPRISING. 

A column of smoke is swelling 

Before me all the day, 
And curling upward to the sky, 

Dissolves in air away. 

'Tis the breeze that gives its shaping, 

That artist from the sea ; 
Now bids it stand, a pillar of cloud, 

And now a branching tree. 

But mark its varying colors, 
Dyed by the circling sun ; 

It's threads of brown and blue and siold. 
By Eve's soft fingers spun. 

Here from my lonely window, 

As all the day I gaze, 
It seems the only living thing 

Amid the city's maze. 

And is it not an image 

Of the opening human soul ; 

Still pressing up and spreading out 
To mix with Nature's whole. 

But not like this the true soul 

Dissolves' in air away ; 
Burning the ladder which it climbs, 

It soars to endless day. 



LA BO BEE'S SON (I. 27:', 

LABORER'S SONG. 

How sweet the close of the day, 

When the evening bell is ringing; 
And the birds that have quit their merry play 

A soft good night are singing. 

Mow sweet the close of the day 

When the flocks to repose are bending, 

And the locust is chanting his plaintive lay, 
And the bustle of care is ending. 

How sweet the close of the day, 

And sweet the evening's slumber ; 
The fireside talk so pleasant and gay, 

And blessings we can not number. 

How sweet the close of the day, 

When the stars in their temple gather; 

Oh let us kneel down and our praises pay 
To our kind and merciful Father. 



DAY AT HOME. 

The day at home that dismisses the world 
To hungrier stomachs than thine ; 

The day at home, the ore of thy thoughts, 
To work uii and refine •, 

The capital loaned of the day at home 
Will pay for the morrow the way to roam. 



274 RHYMES OF HE POSE. 



PRAYER 



Oh Thou from whom my very life I draw, 

Into Thy presence let me not intrude 

With heart unsanctified, or manners rude ; 

But with a soul subdued to filial awe, 

Repentant of transgressions of Thy law, 

May I tread lightly toward Thee, living God ! 

I ask that Thou would'st fill with gratitude 

The chambers of my heart ; that Thou wouldst thaw 

My frozen sympathies ; that love to Thee 

May rise like incense from my heart's calm sea ; 

And lit with heavenly truth I may be free, 

In harbor safe from passion's wild commotion ; 

Give Thou, oh Infinite, of Thy grace to me, 

And with Thy praise make living my devotion. 



DEVOTION. 

Oh for the perfect stillness 
Of deep, intense devotion -, 

The calm of soundless waters 
On Being's boundless ocean ! 



The perfect peace of soul life 
God giveth his forgiven ; 

The earnest of the whole life 
He fits us for in heaven. 



THE DYING SAINT. 275 

THE DYING SAINT. 

Let me go ; my Savior calls me, 

Lo ! I see His smiling eye ! 
If 'tis death that now befalls me, 

'Tis a blessed thing to die. 
Glories on my vision flow, 
Oh to reach them let me go ! 

Now I see my guardian angel 

Waiting, watching round my bed ; 

See, he bears a crown of glory, 
Soon to place it on my head ; 

There the Lamb of God I meet ; 

I will cast it at His feet ! 

Hark ! I hear those angel voices ; 

Hark ! They bid me quickly come ! 
All is ready, all is waiting ; 

List! I hear them say, Come home ! 
Sister, brother, you will come ! 
Weep not, love, they'll bring you home! 



Be yours, friend, the Present, and I'll take the Past, 
With all its strange scenes that were fleeting so fast. 
Let them drink Lethe dry, let the tombs be their home ; 
They will have errands back, and too soon they will come. 
I grant you the Present more lively and clear, 
For its life's on the surface, its eyesight is near ; 
But life in the Past, where'er it may roam, 
Leads round to the truth that makes lasting a home. 



270 nil YMES OF REPOSE. 

OPENING SUNDAY SCHOOL. 

Little feet just gone from home ; 
Time for Sunday School has come. 
Calm the living world around ; 
Ear takes In but gentle sound ; 
Something o'er the vale and hill 
Bids the wide, wide scene be still ; 
Just as if this first of week 
Was to hear an angel speak. 
Lovely is the quiet hour, 
Rich in faith and hope and power ; 
Deep toned Christian hearts are full, 
Praying for the Sunday School. 
See the parent in his chair, 
Leaning back as if in prayer, 
That the teacher may impart 
Something that may touch the heart. 
Hear the mother's earnest tones 
Go up for her little ones ; 
" Heavenly Giver, give them grace 
" E'er to walk before Thy face ; 
" All the years of life to be 
11 Growing up to bliss and Thee.'' • 
Now the opening song is o'er, 
All take in the heavenly lore. 
Teacher overlooks his class, 
Looking thro' that window glass — 
Eye, that doth the soul declare — 
Leading up its glances where 
Leaves of Life's own Tree do quiver 
O'er the banks of Life's own River } 
Healing for the nations there. 



LOOK UP. 277 



LOOK UP. 



Look up, oh soul, the sky is pure, 

And on it dwells the peace of heaven j 

Look up and let its calm allure, 
Until at last thou feel'st forgiven. 



Look up, and 'mid that azure vail 
Oh search for Mercy's melting eye ; 

And through the tears that wash thy wail, 
Behold the spirit hovering nigh. 

Look up to Him who reads thy prayer, 

And measures gifts by heart's devotion ; 
'Till beams that star, so wondrous fair, 
The fairest star on Mercy's ocean. 



AT THE HEARTHFIRE. 

Beneficent Eve, come down and dwell 

Beside our blushing fire, 
And let thy low sweet murmurs tune 

The half awakened lyre. 



Come from the infinite source of love, 
To nerve our worn out eyes, 

And bring to stir our inmost souls 
Some exquisite surprise. 



278 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 



NIGHT. 



Night is the poor man's riches ; holy dreams 

Are his ; the streams of rest flow down for all, 

Bearing the soul onward to its wider world. 

Day's frowning clouds shut out our aching eyes, 

When boisterous winds besiege the firmament. 

But vain their force ; they soon return ; the gates 

Fly open ; and the sacred lamps shine out, 

And on the moon's sweet brow is written Peace. 

The night gains on the day, for steam hath taught 

Her feet a similar swiftness, and the car 

Hath a shrill whistle for approving night. 

Earth turns upon his hinges like a door, 

That opens and that shuts against the sun. 

Night is the treasure house of Memories, 

And Thought's most precious streams are full of them ; 

The wise and good Day washes out the gold. 

Day does his duty by us, then gives o'er 

His charge to Night, who heals our many wounds 

Of soul and body with the remedies, 

Soothing and mild, the Great Physician sends ; 

And Night, thou art the garden where our souls 

Go forth to gather fruit ; thou art the true 

Hesperides ; thy apples ever bloom ; 

True golden apples that rejoice the heart ; 

We go and taste them ; our best thoughts improve 

On their rich juices, yet all unconsumed 

We leave them ripe for others yet unborn. 

Thine is the feast of ages, where we meet 

Newton and Kepler and Pythagoras, 

And patient Job,. whose woe parched soul his God 

Led to the sweet influences of the Pleiades. 



TRUST. 27'J 



TRUST. 



•Oh God, my life, my highest love, 
How dark this world would be, . 

When these fierce clouds o'erhang the blue, 
Had I one doubt of Thee. 



When lightning's sword is drawn on high, 
And thunder shakes the wild, 

'Tis then I feel Thou art most nigh, 
To guard Thy trusting child. 



When world calamities oppress, 
And drive my peace away, 

The peace of God will come instead, 
While Thee I make my stay. 



READING ROOM. 

Oh soft and sweet the hours of eve, 
Beneath the gaslight, where the world's 

Great banquet spread we may receive, 
And watch life's gulf with all its whirls. 

Here warm and safe, without the dimes, 
We drink pure streams from all the past, 

And for the future's need betimes, 
Our bread upon the waters cast. 



RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

STREET LIGHTS. 

All up the street and down the street 
Are rows of burning trees ; 

Two long, long rows of living lights 
That put old night at ease. 

So up and down the street of Time 
Are long, long rows of lights. 

That cheer us thro' the dusky days, 
And guide us thro' the nights. 



One bright, broad Sun for all the day, 
And many suns for nights ; 

So thanks to Thee, Almighty Sun, 
For all these lesser lights. 



INNOCENCE. 

First and sweetest flower of Spring, 

Thee there's no need I should sing ; 

All the light winged from the tree 

Here abound in praise of thee ! 

Oh if Eve had still been Eve, 

What a joy Earth now would weave ! 

Earth so sunk in crime and clanhood ! 

Who but th' Innocent, clothed in manhood, 

This Dead Sea can ferry us o'er 

Back to Innocence once more ? 



A UG UST. 281 



AUGUST. 



A pleasant month were August, 
So flush of all that's fair ; 

If April would but lend him 
A breath of her sweet air. 



A cheerful month were August, 
In harvests so arrayed, 

If toil could make a compromise 
Between the sun and shade. 



A glorious month were August, 
Whose radiance climbs so high, 

Wert not for his secure, proud gaze 
From that unclouded sky. 



But as he is, dull August 

Rolls heavily away ; 
We'll never mention him in rhyme, 

'Till Winter chills the day. 



When blazing beech and steaming grain 

Cheer up December's sun, 
We'll thank dead August for our stores, 

His weary heats have won. 



(24) 



282 E HYM E S OF R E POSE. 

THE SABBATH. 

Roll on, roll on, oh Sabbath Sun, 
And tell the nations 'neath thy sway, 

That whence thy raptured heralds run, 
There comes a soul ennobling ray, 

To bring the wanderers from abroad, 

Back to the fellowship of God. 



Oh haste, oh haste, that wondrous hour, 
When the vast wilderness of mind 

Shall bend before the Gospel's power, 
And all the gold of heart, refined 

By fire of heavenly love, shall be 

A gem to deck Eternity. 



HOPE AND DUTY. 

Oh give me eyes to see my home 

Far up in yonder blue ; 
That I may know to reach that home, 

What I must be and do. 



Oh give me ears to hear the voice 
That whispers from the sky, 

What I must do and suffer ere 
I earn the right to die. 



REST. 283 



REST. 



Soon I bathe my head in slumber, 
Savior, let me rest in Thee ; 

Striving all Thy gifts to number, 
'Till I'm lost in Mercy's sea ; 

Love and service 
Ever floating me to Thee. 

Oh the grace, the beauty shining 
From thy form on Calvary ? 

Woes Pll bear without repining, 
Since Thou suffered'st thus for me ! 

Only Lovely, 
It were life to die in Thee. 

While the evening curtain shields me, 
Send some dear departed friend, 

Now an angel, to my pillow, 
Holy dreams of Thee to lend ; 

May my waking 
All for Thee its new life spend. 



1866. 



Oh, weariness, thou art the soul's bequest 

To the vain world, that seeks its base reward. 

We give our cares to slumber, who repays 

In gentle dreams and freshened morning thoughts. 

The world wants not our weariness, and back 

It conies as Rest, to help us early rise. 



284 llll YMES OF REPOSE. 

SUNSET. 

Go down to thy grave, oh loveliest Sun, 
On the soft, verdant breast of the prairie, 

For again thou'lt appear thro' the mom's dewy tear, 
Like the vision of Jesus to Alary. 

Go down to thy sepulcher, angel of light, 

And with thee the prayers of creation ; 
When new-born and bright, thou shah scatter old night, 

Thou wilt conic like the Sun of salvation. 



Oh when thou wert rising on yonder gray hill, 
Thou cfid'st iill our voting spirits with gladness •, 

Now thy bloom from the East grows the ripened soul feast, 
A joy that is sweetened by sadness. 



SUNRISE AT WINDOW. 

The gay green orange cloud above, 
The blue gray frost below, 

Lighten the black hills waving there, 
Where the sun-steps swiftly grow. 

Envy me not, ye worn out trees, 

Whose leaves are dead and gone, 
If my heart blossoms out anew, 

By God's s'reat goodness won. 



SEPTEMBER. 285 



SEPTEMBER. 



Thy wrath is over, month of Equinox, 
Vanguard of Autumn, driving back the day, 
While Night, thine ally, captures the half hours, 
And turns the Sun upon a lower track. 
! Ie hath the grapes to ripen yet, the corn 
Of later birth to yellow ; while the knife 
Of Frost stands ready o'er luxuriance ; 
Its cutting down a question but of Time. 
A darker green rules o'er the world of hues, 
That soon divided empire will display, 
And now doth bid the heedful husbandman 
Hasten to gather. Still the Light ascends 
High from his golden to his silver track, 
While half defeated Summer comes again, 
And mounts a lower throne. Still harvest waits 
On many a plant unknown to fastest lines, 
And earliest demand. Along the grass 
Inveterate, thick matted o'er the walk, 
Are seen gray streaks, that do not fear to tell 
How chill old age affects the season's blood. 
Hut this most patient of all Nature's growths, 
For untold millions of her mouths the bread, 
The carpet for her unshod feet, the meek 
Inheritor of earth, upon its coat 
Retains the nap that keeps the life within. 

And now the Cabbage, plump self interest, 
Clings close to soil, and throws out leaf on leaf, 
To play the beggar as the breeze flaunts by ; 
Till satisfied with gaining, it contracts 
And rounds its bulky head, exchanging soon 
The outside acrid for the inward sweet. 



280 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

So the Potato, stout humility, 

That throws its hardy vine nets o'er the ground, 

As if to keep its roots from sunstroke, while 

The grateful tubers swell to manly size, 

Has given a few crisp leaves to hungry frost. 

The darkened green of the Tomato takes 

A brighter view from the sweet smile of heaven ; 

And underneath the weaving of his vines, 

Blushing like Love beneath his tresses, gleams 

The red ripe fruit that tempts the gardener's hand. 

With bolder cheek the Turnip meets the change, 

Hemmed in on slope between the slender walls, 

That terrace up my garden of the heights ; 

This type of bustling, active zeal spreads out 

His green and white, as if in calm contempt 

Of the rough King that's coming. Now behold 

The yellow Sunflower doff its ample green, 

And wrap itself in dark and spotted brown. 

How hath it, like glad Hope, pushed out its leaves 

To conquer sustenance from roving airs, 

And turned toward the Sun its golden face, 

So broad and round and full of confidence ! 

Now turns its disc embrowned to sharp black cones, 

Fuji of refreshing oil, the songster's joy. 

But see the Corn, like Faith, that upward springs, 

Communing with the heavens, and holding out 

Its many taper fingers to the breeze ! 

Alas ! bereaved of its unripened ears, 

The children it so tenderly had wrapped 

In silk of its own weaving, and encased 

In coats and cloaks against the storm and drought, — 

Bereaved in the very gushing of its sweet ! 

Yet tho' its leaves hang drooping by its side, 

Its stem, unshortened, swells with sugar still. 



SEPTEMBER. 2S7 

And now, so like Economy, the Bean, 
Turns to the best account its many friends, 
On which it leans, now the potato tops, 
And then the lofty pole, the corn's smooth cane, 
The sunflower's trunk, the rough tomato's stem ; 
It taxes all in turn for its support. 
Thus patronized, it hangs its light legumes, 
Swollen and sweet, beneath its string of hearts, 
Secure from fiercer noonday — not from touch 
Of hunger, when he seeks his prey at eve. 
And last, not least, the Grape, with banners wide, 
Carrying its rich clusters up supports 
Borrowed from templed woods, toward the Sun, 
Emblem of Christian Union, now has paid 
Its tribute of rich fruit, and casts its leaves 
Into the heaving bosom of the Wind ; 
Its juices taking in for winter's rest ; 
As great minds looking inward gain new strength. 

Now doth the Autumn settle up accounts 
With Spring and Summer for the growing world, 
And give the year its stores to feed its own. 
Are there not times when Nations fall their leaves, 
Settling accounts with Present and with Past ? 
And hath not Christianity her times 
Of falling leaves and ripening fruits, and fears 
Of a cold winter for the souls of men ? 

1863. 

STARLIGHT. 

Now's the convention 

Of all the great lights ; 
And open to all who 

Love to see the great sights. 



288 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

THE POTATO. 

Where did I come from ? The lofty piled plain, 
Where the overhead sun pours his red hot in vain, 
Where the tropic's slow Winter lingers all through the year j 
'Twas there did my sweetness and strength first appear. 



With my long tangled arms in my mother Earth's breast, 

I drew out the milk, and I grew without rest ; 

Till the hungry to feed, I came out of my bed, 

And my fame o'er deep vales and wide valleys was spread. 



I sought the Green Island, and soon became there, 
Right arm to the strong and sweet rose to the fair, 
Until the destroyer in shape of the rot, 
Bro't ruin to harvest-field, famine to cot. 



In the great commonwealth Eve the firmest of friends, 
Who work by wise means for the noblest of ends ; 
Every foe to the rights of the poor to dethrone, 
And assure to the meek, honest toiler his own. 



And as I grow rooted all over the Earth, 
My descendants in armies will honor their birth; 
And kind souls like Dorcas, and strong men like Cato, 
The world's need invite to the feast of potato. 

1ST?. 



LAND AND OCEAN. 289 



REFRESHMENT. 



My old friend, Rest, come round once more, 
And lay thy pillow 'neath my brain ; 

And draw Hope's blanket round my breast, 
That I may dream of Heaven again. 

Oh give me back my infant joys, 
Serve up the sweet repasts of youth, 

And hold the rope, and let me down 
Once more into the wells of Truth. 

1872. 







LAND AND OCEAN. 

Altho' the land appears at rest, 

And ocean's oft a fury, 
Whether the land has more repose, 

Might come before a jury. 



For land must run the gauntlet of 
Both heat and cold's wide range, 

While ocean turns him in his bed, 
And hardly feels the change. 



The land is torn by torrents too ; 

Laid waste by lava waves, 
And storms betimes, that make its plains 

And vales a world of graves. 

(25) 



290 RHYMES OF RETOSE. 

Yet tho' the rills and rivers act 
As agents for the sea ; 

They're also piling up the banks 
About the roots of tree. 



The coral's a land agent that, 
Each now and then, the seas 

Is serving with a notice to 
Vacate the premises. 

The real difference seems to be, 
Between thes*e parties massive, 

That ocean's in the active voice, 
And land is in the passive. 

The Land is moved, and Ocean moves ; 

When Ocean's tired of revel, 
He leaves the Land alone to rest, 

And dozing, finds his level. 



'Tis fortunate the Earth's a sphere, 
And Nature, as we're whirled 

Around, has given us so many 
Centres of the world. 

If there were but one, every soul 
Might be for running there ; 

But now we've only to reflect 
That the centre's where we are. 



THE CANAL BOAT. 291 

THE CANAL BOAT. 

Two sedentary workers, domiciled 
In separate niches in high walls, that had 
No streetward view, to "eke out weary eve, 
Did simultaneously attempt a rhyme, 
Describing each his outlook. One ran thus : 

" A pile of boards ; a pile of boards ! 

" Pray tell, is that your theme ? 
" If that's the case, 'tis very plain, 

" You've dreamed a lumbering dream." 

" That is my theme. From morn till night, 

u Below ten yards of sky, 
" That is the unvaried scene these panes 

" Yield to my painless eye." 

" Unvaried — oh how beautiful ! " 

" Unvaried, did I say ? 
" No ; where but yesterday were oak, 

" Are poplar boards to-day." 

" You think it interesting, then ? " 

" Why, yes, its interest 
41 To its proprietor, no doubt, 

" Is ten per cent at least." 

" That's making use of figures, true, 

" But is it picturesque ? " 
" Well., it may yet supply a frame 

" For the portrait o'er your desk." 



292 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

" ./Esthetic ? " " Yes, when taking shape 

44 As dinner tables placed 
44 Beneath Thanksgiving turkeys, 'twill 

44 Most surely please the taste." 

44 But not pathetic ? " 44 Yes, who knows ; 

4< The architect who rears 
44 The pit and boxes for the show, 

44 May work it into tiers." 

44 Light literature it can not be." 
44 Why not, when tools kept bright 

44 Make of it sash and window frames, 
44 It surely will be light." 

44 But still it wants repose." 44 It won't, 
4t If its products e'er you mark, 

44 As benches holding patiently 
44 The weary at the park." 

44 And eloquent ? " 4l If at the base 
44 Of Town Hall, trodden o'er, 

44 It echoes the bright member's words 
44 Who now has got the floor." 

44 You'll make it patriotic, then ? " 

44 If it suggest a plank 
44 In freedom's platform, to sustain 

44 The weight of freedom's bank." 

The scribbler thus far ventured with his rhymes, 
When 'neath a gentle tap th' old fashioned door 
Did tremble lightly. To the words " Walk in," 



THE CANAL BOA T. 293 

Incoming feet made music. 'Twas his friend, 
The occupant of an upper niche. " Excuse 
" My interruption of your pen. I, too, 
" Have just been scribbling. What's the better news ? " 
" I'm going to try the rage of the canal 
" To-morrow morning, early. Just a ride 
• For rest's sake and sight-seeing. Would you go ? " 
" Go ? yes, of course, 'twill be a novel ride." 
" All right, I'll wait your hour." "Say eight o'clock. 
" But I disturb your writing." " Oh no, no j 
"'Tis only pastime ; were you fond of puns, 
" I'd ask your criticism on these lines." 
" Well, I'm no judge." " You would have been ere this, 
" Had you but studied law." " Mr. Punster, I 
" Will hear with pleasure, if in turn you can 
" Endure my sober-sided scraps." " Endure ! 
"'Twill cheer me up to hear a sober thing, 
" If written with a pen your hand has plied ? " 
And so the sketch above, — 'tis not our part 
To qualify it with such adjectives 
As rough or racy, fine or flimsy ; ours 
Is just to tell the story. The above 
Was read and then discussed. Adjournment next 
Was made to upper room, fifth story high. 
The stout, plump hand that turned the rightful key 
To narrower quarters than the ones just left, 
And much less gay, now opens to and seats 
Thin Wornel, as he calls him, and draws out 
From antique table drawer the following : 

These chimney tops shut out the sky, 

I can not see my favorite stars ; 
From all the jewelled walk my eye 

Is closed by smoke's slow, shifting bars. 



294 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

I used to gaze, the year's first month, 
At those three stars that measure all 

The golden columns that support 
The glory of Orion's wall. 

What see I now ? My spirit sees, 
In spite of mist, Faith's steady blaze ; 

And now my whole soul rises while 
I fix upon its truth my gaze. 



And farther on, a twinkling star, 

More brilliant, but less steady, burns ; 

It draws me up, it leads me on ; 

'Tis Hope that thrills and calms by turns. 

But nearer, farther, all around, 

Come rays from the great star of Love ; 
The central star that holds them both, 

'Tis now below them, now above. 



These three stars measure all the sky 
Those mists leave spirit eyes to see ; 

Worth all the stars in all the worlds ; 
Their names — Faith, Hope and Charity. 

" I see, says Wornel, why you chose this theme, 

" You're just one story higher up than I, 

" And can not study the rich landscape seen 

" So clearly from my window ; so you take 

" Most naturally to what's left, the stars, 

" Which here require more faith than eyes to s( 



THE CANAL BOAT. 295 

Worncl was going on to criticize, 

When suddenly another tap was heard 

Of one who called on business ; business which 

Was Wilnei's only, and so Wornel left. 

If there's one kind of motion nearest rest, 
'Tis when the easy going team that tread 
On ample, firm and unobstructed path, 
The gay canal boat pull so jauntily. 
You've heard the story of a passenger 
That would be, who the chief of such a craft 
Begged for a berth to work his passage, and 
Was set to lead the horses, but preferred 
To walk upon his own hook. Had he tried 
The situation, doubtless he had found 
Its duties not so very onerous, 
While taking lessons in a thrifty art, 
The art of leading. Better lesson still 
He learned in quitting, lesson in the art 
Of independence. 

Both the friends aboard, 

And loading all complete, the impatient team 

Are tightening the long traces at the word 

Of brisk, bold captain, and the carrier moves. 

The long broad banks are heavy with the heaps 

Of sand and stone and wood and lumber due 

To this untrumpeted true worker's toils. 

For getting thro' the busy world unseen, 

How fair the chances now ! The roars and screams 

And rattlings stay behind to advertise 

The smokes and tracks and wheels. Pork-houses broad 

In breast and low in crown, chair factories 



296 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

Of stout proportions every way, ice stores 

And tanneries and granaries, good bye ! 

Good morning, bridge ; we bow to your stern will, 

As did not the straight forward Irishman, 

Who when the cry came suddenly, "look out," 

Tho' safely entrenched below, did look out, sure, 

And got a broken head. 

The suburbs now 

Are thinning out the houses that stand firm 
On thickest shoe soles, wood and brick and stone. 
How peaceful they ! so nestled 'mid the vines, 
Flowers, shady walks, and rosy fruited trees, 
And wrapped around with porches where slight forms, 
Grey heads and curly heads are some times seen, 
And thro' which gently come piano thrums, 
All seeming so like rest. So Wilner says. 
" Not so," says Wornel, " yonder vale that sweeps 
" So wide toward the hills, has too much dust, 
u Clouding the long lines of brick, and groups 
" Of naked tenements, and scattered villas here 
" And there, and lofty piles upon the heights ; 
" 'Tis more like movement ; and the villages 
" That widen on our view, and coming lines 
" Of steam cloud soon will make it more so." u Nay," 

Said Wilner, " turn your eyes the other way ; 
" Look up these hills, all bosomed o'er with grass, 
iC Relieved by clumps of trees occasional, 
" And sprinkled on the slopes with cows that lounge, 
" Or bite the choicest stems ; and higher up 
u The blue clad quarriers mine the limestone gray. 
" From this the eye drops down to suburb homes 
" We now are passing. This is like repose." 



THE VASAL BOAT. 297 

" All true," said Wornel, " different points of view 
" Possess your eyes and mine. Suppose we swap." 
" What ? Eyes ? Whenever we swap minds we may." 
As now they gaze from gently arching deck, 
They both agree 'tis movement, as the vale 
Sweeps around into a thriving town beneath 
The splendid villas ; but not far beyond 
Where e'en the railroad takes a reverent tone, 
In passing the fair city of the dead, 
Whose shining marbles lift so high the forms 
That sculpture makes so sacred to the past, 
Or rather to the future, — there is rest. 
But they pass on — no splendid wake they leave 
Behind them, such as steam is father of, 
When plowing the great rivers or the lakes, 
Or ocean ; but a gentle glimmer bright, 
A kindly smile the waters give the keel, 
That draws so lightly on them. In full chord 
With this they hear the dipping of the rope 
That binds them to the muscles on the path, 
As now and then it slackens ; most of all 
When meeting and so passing kindred barks. 
Still in their onward progress, to the slope 
Of hill that towers high over them they cling ; 
Yet slowly gains upon their height, the vale 
Beneath them. How it teems with green ! Not wild 
With weeds and shrubs unsightly, as when left 
The pasture for the ruminants to clean ; 
Nor homely as a forest all untrimmed, 
But here in rows that geometrical 
Tie up the barnyard to the streams, are plants 
Of ample leaf, or generous vine or stem 
That send their representatives to stalls 
In market, thence to city tables flush 



298 RHYMES OF. REPOSE. 

With comforts for the hungry. Orchards, too, 
Hem in the lovely homes with porches girt, 
While castellated mansions here and there 
Hang on the hillsides. Further on with roofs 
Of verdure o'er the creek stood sycamores 
Most musical with birdlings, but their names 
Were not upon our voyager's tongues. Near by 
There was a little garden, where a youth 
Was levying contributions from the vines ; 
The grape, the bean, and the tomato gave ; 
How bounteously it could not well be seen. 
He sang a song meanwhile ; two stanzas reached 
The passing ears, and they were such as these : 

Beautiful tree, 

I look on thee, 
As on the home of a spirit fair ; 

Whose bosom heaves, 

Stirring the leaves, 
Perfuming with heavenly breath the air. 

Thou'rt a happy home, 

When the tempests come, 
Where the robin may fold her wings to rest ; 

In her leaf thatched bower, 

She will while the hour, 
And her little ones find a warmer nest. 

The first part of another stanza heard 
Just put the simple question, 

" And dost thou hear 

" A voice trilling near ? " — 



THE CANAL BOAT. 299 

But the rest, 

As the boat glided briskly past the spot, 

Was quite inaudible. A slight affair ; 

But then it showed that cheer in earnest toil, 

Which wipes out half the primal curse. As yet 

The captain had been steeped in his routine. 

Now Wornel had the most of that long arm 

Of lively speech that draws out easily 

The tongues of other men. The occasion came, 

For an inquiry into freights of grain. 

Explicit answers followed, but 'twas said 

That later grains were making other friends ; 

Of these, except the swinish race, the cars 

Were most in favor. What then were the freights 

Most kindly to his trade ? You saw what lined 

The banks at starting point. Some boats in ice 

Dealt largely. Was the competition sharp 

In general freights ? He would'nt say. The chance 

Lay open for it, but what was the chance, 

Or rather general opportunity 

Against experience, skill and capital, 

And that which oft is their result, good will ? 

This is the firm that works at ease ; whose work 

Is play, and so is overpowering. 

So cheapness is the child of argus eyed 

And wise Economy -, not penny wise 

Alone, but pound wise, too. 



Then Wilner asked, 
" If business of all kinds so runs in ruts, 
" What is the advantage of canal boat o'er 
" The car in making freights secure the health 
" Of a great country's business."' "Clearly this," 



300 



RHYMES OF REPOSE. 



' The captain answered. " The canal is not 

' In its own nature a monopoly ; 

' The railroad is ; by legal statute first ; 

' By its requirement of great capital ; 

' By the necessity for the road itself, 

1 Whether in hands of builders or lessees, 

' Running its own cars. The canal boat pays 

' The toll, and only gains the use ; its next 

' Of neighbors does the same." 



No more was asked, 

And the two edified voyagers now were left 
Alone to their reflections. " If all true, 1 ' 
Said Wornel, " nothing new." " But none the worse," 
Said Wilner, "for all that. In hearing old 
u We often gather new things. Here's the lock." 
u We're served as children here, locked up a bit, 
" By way of discipline, until the mind, 
11 Or rather soul, can reach a higher plane." 
" But locking up is not enough. Somewhat 
" Of higher plane, to meet us, must come down 
" Before we rise." " Yes, yes, and higher planes 
41 Are coming down, it is the nature of them." 
Filled to new level now, the chamber waits 
The opening of massive doors, which power, 
In league with time, makes easy ; just the law 
By which the heavy weights of life are moved ; 
Only it needs the adaptation fit, 
Already for th' occasion ; which, in short, 
Is the machinery or system. 

Now 

The artificial cascade safely climbed, 

Before the keel a satin ribbon bright 



THE CANAL BOAT. 301 

Long distance has unrolled. The- travelers sit 

For some time silent, conning o'er at ease 

The problems of the world's wide varied life, 

Suggested here. The business that in time 

Compels success, is underlaid by toil 

Continued long, and system firmly wrought 

Out of the experiences of every day, 

Or else is wisely built on truths which are 

The capital of ages. Well prepared, 

Well trained, the workman works well at his ease ; 

And so the heads of work's battalions, once 

Established well and safely, often take 

Their ease, some times too soon, not seldom, too, 

Securely, if their ease mean not neglect. 



But now a farm revealed its history 

In broken fences and o'erpowering weeds ; 

And yet we spare its tale unto our souls, 

Where better histories lie so near beyond. 

The grateful wood approaches, where the wealth 

Of soul is often gathered, and vast crowds 

Betimes may list to burning words ; and here, 

Thro' long departed years, have come and gone, 

The seekers for excitements, that draw out 

The worn life from routine ; they bathed their eyes 

In lights of great occasions, borrowing cheer 

To aid return to duty. 



Wornel gazed, 

And said, " A dose of memory's soda here 
" Beneath the patient tree-tops I would take, 
" But then good company has a paramount claim." 



302 RHYMES OF BE POSE. 

And Wilncr answered, " I, too, need a cup 
u Of past enjoyment's clear, cold water, kept 
" In the deep wells now opening." So they give 
Man's artificial river their adieus, 
And lose themselves awhile in quiet groves. 



AFTER A RAIN. 

Look down, the scene is clothed in green, 

Look up, the zenith lowers; 
Along the vale the harvest pale 

Bends down beneath the showers. 



Around, around, o'er all the ground 
The glittering rain drops lie 

As if there fell on hill and dell 
The brightness of the sky. 

Long, long the cloud has like a shroud 
Enwrapt the face of heaven, 

As if the blue to wash anew ; 
And now away 'tis driven. 

The verdant world has wide unfurled 

The banners of its youth ; 
And Nature's face assumes the grace 

And healthfulness of truth. 



THE WINDOW SHADE. 303 



THE WINDOW SHADE. 



Oh thou black apple, shaking 'gainst the panes, 

The network of thy twigs so softly there, 

But late reviving from the stupor sad, 

The death of all the leaves had brought thee in, 

Is this thy holiday, or winter's sleep ? 

Thou hast been climbing skyward forty years, 

And earthward thy first branches long have fallen. 

Let me look through thee now, and strive to reach 

That mingling of the Past and Future's thought 

Which fills the soul with Peace. Did not long past 

Of life and past of death together meet 

To bring thee into being ? Yet thou art 

One of creation's humbler ones, thy fruit 

Feeding the senses only, tho' the soul 

Can feed on sense so nourished, and the facts 

Of thy continued life are food for thoughts 

That nurse kind sympathies. Thou'rt silent now ; 

Thou that so lately as the latest Spring 

Wast vocal with sweet praise, for all God's gifts. 

How white thou wast with blossoms, late in May ! 

How did thy luscious balls the August cheer ! 

Did not October lend to thee her coat 

Of many colors ? Happy family, 

Those leaves of thine, as 'mid the noonday fires, 

They massed together into grateful shade, 

So living, yet so fixed ; so green and gay ; 

Smiling as Nature smiled ; so full of tears 

When the sky wept ; so loud and laughing, when 

The high winds filled them with their gladdest news ; 

And in the evening's sheen so full of play ! 

Those leaves were healing to the weary eyes. 



304 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

November laid his cold hand on the ties 

Which bound them for the long month unto thee, 

And plucked them for the hungry blast. Weep thou, 

This dank December morn, bereaved one, weep 

Over thy dead, as all of us must weep, 

Sooner or later, o'er our buried hopes. 



But spite of this thy sorrow, thy good works 

Are unabated, thou that giv'st thy roof 

Of branches and thy progeny of leaves 

A shelter for the weather-beaten earth. 

And thy more perfect gifts of round, red pulp, 

Waiting to cheer the circle round the fires 

Which January's coal shall make so bright, 

Are they not stored below, where frost no key 

Holds to force entrance ? Memory's greenhouse, too, 

Is full of bright boquets, thy early gifts, 

And of rich music written on the heart, 

The season gave thee when the mocking bird, 

In budding time, made thee an opera house. 

Later the Sun comes now and sooner goes, 

But all thy cheery shade, so kindly given, 

When Toil made way for books and kindly words, 

Lives in our buoyant spirits still afloat. 

And so my window blinds, all summer long, 

Thou wert, and still art, oh thou darkened tree. 

But thro' thee can be seen the kindly morn ; 

And thro' thee can be seen the tremulous stars, 

Whose thoughts that glimmer thro' the immense, come 

down, 
Too big for words. Oh live but leafless tree, 
That hast put on the colors of the night; 
Let me look thro' thee as a telescope, 



SATURDAY SIGHT. 305 

However darkly, toward the tree of Life. 
Thou'rt weary with the labors of the year, 
And hast a holiday ; renew thy strength ; 
Let me join with thee in the silent praise ; 
Let me learn from thee patient faith and hope } 
And render, like thee, gentle charities. 



SATURDAY NIGHT. 

Another week has swept away ; 

Its plodding cares and visions gay, 

Go with it, too — why should they stay ? 

And whither have they gone ? 

Unto the burial-place of Time ; 

I hear their funeral march and chime, 

But hark ! the burial's done. 



would the hours come back again, 

1 would not live them o'er again, 

But from their shine and from their rain 
My heart should gather bloom ; 
Each moment should a feather lend, 
To braid the wing on which I tend 
Upward beyond the tomb. 



(20) 



iOG RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

RAMBLES IN QUIET FIELDS. 

Now that the rill has done the rain's command, 

And borne the surplus waters to the creek, 

As well as earth and sand and tangled drifts, 

Of branches, leaves and flowers — the taxes due, 

Levied by Time's assessors — there is left 

The little, laughing, tattling, tiny stream. 

It ties the little lakelets all together, 

Where frisk about or gently glide, the fins, 

Not born for labor's fury. Little boys, 

With little hooks tied fast to little rods, 

Stand there, like little statues, patiently 

Waiting to take the little finnies in. 

The little tufts of grass — that bend around 

The little reservoirs, to quench the thirst 

They borrow from the Sun, who takes his ease 

Upon the landing of his staircase, there — 

Called Noon — like clever little grasslets grow, 

Without the farmer's asking, leisurely. 

Near by the little lambs trim off the nap 

Of Nature's carpet, woven since the storm ; 

Their softly bleating mothers not far ofF, 

Watching their early lessons in the art 

Of making useful occupants of the vale. 

And o'er these little ones bend solemn rocks 

Pale with old mosses rare, and plump old oaks, 

With wrinkled faces fatherly, and clouds 

That seem more fit for ornament than use. 

The marble blue above is gently trod 

By these gay wanderers, in slippers soft. 

The round horned ruminants also pave the shade, 

With outspread flattened shoulders, their long breaths 



RA M B L ES JJV Q Ul ET FIELDS. 307 

Sounding to regular beats the lowest bass. 
And over all these rests a quiet haze, 
Delicious to the spirit worn with care. 



We climb tne rocky paths of this same rill, 

And reach the heights where towering forests show 

Their colors varying o'er the rough barked trunks. 

A congregation this of young and old, 

For centuries in this homestead, taking root, 

With Silence for the ruler. Now and then 

The gentle breezes come as visitors ; 

And now and then the song of bird ; and once 

In a long season comes the thunder, too, 

To wake the sleeping echoes ; and there comes, 

Twice in a year, the woodman, striking notes 

Out of the heartstrings of the fallen limbs. 

But else the law of silence is obeyed 

Most reverently. So here the artist flower 

Can keep its quiet school, and nil the air 

With the sweet whispeiings of Truth and Peace. 

And now let fancy build a bridge across 

The wooded hills and vales, until we come 

To the grand prairie's landscape. There we have 

A sky by a meridian cleft in two, 

Half blue, half cloud, with a horizon grown 

To vastness. Underneath 'tis paved with flowers 

That take their hues from Sol's prismatic beams. 

A sort of Independent Tartary 

These plains have been, and o"er them all unfenced 

The cattle long have ranged ; their owners' mark 

Upon their shoulders. Houses far between, 

Their walls and roofs of smooth, split shingles, riven 



303 RHYMES OF RE FOSE. 

Out of the ample trunks that lined the streams, 

Shone goldenly in the distance. — Let us take 

The train far West in time thro' wondrous wastes, 

With bright oases here and there ; and then 

The coach, and then the quiet steed, until 

A family of giants meet our gaze. 

What a grand sleep was theirs — the mighty trees, 

That hang so near Yosemite's bright veil ! 

What records they have kept of ages past — 

If one could only read them. 



Farther north 

Is seated high a rugged mountain top 

That grows no green itself, and yet the Sun 

May lend it almost all its hues in turn. 

But far in the distance a prevailing white 

It holds up for its banner, not white flag 

Of fear, unless it were of judgment sent, 

Or to be sent by heaven on guilty earth. 

It hath a deep charm in its fixedness. 

With that fixed look Sorata might look down 

On Titicaca's Lake. But who can guess 

What changes those great painters, fast Sunrise 

And pensive Sunset make in that pale face ! 

And some times our Great Lakes have that soft haze, 

Born of eternal Stillness, it might seem, 

That robs sight seers of all petty thoughts. 

And Ocean, too, who In his varying moods 

And changing features seems to wear in turn 

All shades of feeling, from the stolid dull 

To fury wrought out from infernal rage, 

Hath scenes and times of exquisite repose. 

E'en the swift Sun himself, that with the moon 



RAMBLES IN QUIET FIELDS. 309 

In concert, piles the tides, and hath at home 

Such terrible domestic broils, if they speak true 

Who watch his changing face most narrowly ; — 

E'en he at noon descried thro' willowy shades, 

Seems resting like his protege, the Earth. 

So the sweet silver Queen, who rules o'er night, 

Is charm in its completeness ; gliding up 

Her roadway, the sleep-walker ot the sky. 

But truer the repose of that great host, 

That, diamonded, throng the night's blue halls : 

'Tis untold Distance wears serenest calm. 

Long centuries of experiment have shown 
What ought to be in human government ; 
And thus like a great oak has grown up Law, 
Its roots so deeply sunk in human mind. 
Old age, long usage, and established name, 
Still prop it with their sanctions ; heavy arms 
And armorers still wait on its defense ; 
Its offices still shoot up vines that link 
Its branches to a thousand orders strong 
In patronage and numbers ; Taxes far 
Reach out their tendrils grasping million hands ; 
And ballot-boxes give the millions room 
T' assert their quiet manhood. Danger hangs 
Round all this, 'till repose in theory 
Becomes repose in fact, and all agree 
To work and wait for common good. 



And what 

Is Science but the vigilant, quiet soul 

That puts all things in place, and saves from waste 

A world of energies ? 

We need not speak 



310 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

Of Gospel with its golden rule applied ; 

The common measure between man and man ; 

Its Author reconciling man to God, 

And saying to life's storm waves, " Peace, be still." 



The individual man muet work and play, 
And wait till knowledge first, and wisdom last 
Perfect that intricate machine of soul 
We call the character, — the habits fixed 
Iii channels smooth, that work out Virtue's calm. 
Only the Mightiest knows how well, the right 
Eternity works out of transient wrong ; 
Or how or when He gives the finishing touch 
To His creations. We can only say, 
Shall not the Judge of all the Earth do right ? 

1874. 



OUR GOD 

Oh Infinite source of light, so far beyond 

All our conceivings, both of sense and sight, 

And yet that light so near that to conceive, 

Soul needs but ope its eye, our kindling hopes, 

Our wishes, struggling into earnest prayer, 

And breaking hold on earth, would rise to Thee. 

We gaze upon the sky, all worlds in one, 

The sun and moon and stars which thou hast made, 

And feel that He who made them must be One. 

Those faint epistles from our brethren sent, 

Far in the infinite, the twinkling hosts, 

That tell of gatherings round the golden fires, 



UR GOD. 311 

But tell no names, vet say that Thou art One. 

And when the microscope unveils a world 

In every leaf that breathes for yonder tree ; 

Creatures within creatures nested, till the end 

Of least seems far off as the mightiest ; 

Grandeur itself is lost in infinite, 

Leaving us the bare truth that T'hou art, 

And as Thou art, art One. So bind Thy law 

About our souls, so write it in our thoughts, 

So shape us that we may be one in Thee. 

Thus as we search the universe of mind, 

Pacing the past, the present, and to come, 

And see one code of laws o'erruling all, 

We'll bow in speechless praise to find Thee One. 



SETTING SUN. 

Oh setting sun, I have been patient waiting 
All the slow moving hours of July day ; 

For something of thy tropical heats abating, 
That I might read thee with my eyes of clay. 

Thou art too fiery for reading, when thou ridest 
Over the mountains of thy daily road ; 

'Tis when behind the tents of Eve thou hidest, 
We know what golden floods the day o'erflowed. 

I've often thought of thee, oh Sun, as dying, 
When I have seen thee fall on yonder hill ; 

But thou did'st only droop thy wings, when flying 
Where other eyes can reach thy harvests still. 



312 RHYMES OF REPOSE. 

No ; if thou showest us with what calm beauty 
The soul, when ripe for other worlds, to this 

Can bid farewell •, thou knowest thine own duty, 
To light new risen fields for earthly bliss. 



If it were also thus with those who leave us 
Below to wrap their clay with tearful art ; 

If it were their's to come back and receive us 
With greetings that o'erwhelm in joy the heart ; 

If the next morn or new year after winmna 

Their farewell flight, they came to assume again 

Their clay one moment glorified, while singing 
The wonders of their ride over heavenly plain ; 



How rapturous ! could ears but hear the story ; 

But say, would their white robes endure our dust? 
Ere our astonished eyes could bear the glory, 

Up and away to their new home they must. 

Far better hath our Sire for us provided ; 

Since they in Christ, who win the diadem, 
Have their new homes from earth so well divided, 

Their dear ones seek out the bright path to them. 

1S74. 









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